As the Rain Falls
by Indigo Lights
Summary: "But she died - and she died in your arms!" Scorpius closed his eyes, sensing angry tears sliding down his face. Then, he felt her shift in her place, and in a moment, her lips slightly brushed his. When he opened them, he was alone, looking down. In his hand lay a paper crane.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **Hi, humans! I'm back into writing again and hopefully I'll finish this one :) We'll see how this goes. (For more information about my previous whereabouts or about what happened to my stories, visit my profile~)

By the way, if there was a massive _italic part_ and you think that it was somehow unrelated to the story, well, **those were thoughts of people around the wizarding world talking about something. **If you were to be a bit muffled, then just disregard it :) They are originally planned as interviews to the different magical creatures (and people too) and some insights about certain topics. _Those were just random thoughts from, say, Harry, Hermione, Draco, etc._

You can read them. They're really quite idealistic and you may see some resemblance of their monologues to what was happening. It might explain more. And it might have some relate in the story after all ;)

**Disclaimer: **Unless, my pseudonym is JK Rowling, I do not own Harry Potter - nor anything, apart from this plot.

* * *

**_As the Rain Falls_**

**Chapter 1:**

He's staring at her. Again.

How could that be, with his Slytherin pride and all, that he's staring at a bloody girl wearing her robes of crimson and gold from across the room?

The one and only Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy - son of the infamous Draco Malfoy and the ever-so lovely Astoria Greengrass - was _enchanted_ by a mere young lady with red hair and questionably hand-me down robes. _Or was he?_

Though, he surely thought that she could afford for more than new, extravagant robes than what she was wearing.

Certainly, he had reached a conclusion that he was, in fact, mystified of the young Rose Weasley. Especially that she was of some relation with his sodding rival namely Albus Potter.

Rival in every aspect, of course; academics, Quidditch, number of admirers - you name it.

Even though their families had been civil from one another, there was still that pride that his father kept telling him to uphold and handle with care. And until now, seven years of being remotely imprisoned in Hogwarts have he stand tall with that promised dignity his family name screamed at him. With much contemplation, it was assured that everyone was informed about this pride for they have known each other's families apart from a few muggleborns here and there. The Malfoys has been studying in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry generations after the next.

And so, every one of these individuals were so used to one another that they've practically vomited in the same nappies when they were babies. However, as the years go by, a lot of them had changed.

The Longbottom kid - Annabelle - was freed from her correction lenses and could see fairly well without them; Dominique Weasley's taunts weren't as bashful as it was before after being appointed as Head Girl; her younger cousin, Hugo, have improved fairly well in his academics; and her sister, Rose, well.

To say that her hair have been more tamed was an overstatement - because frankly, in the eyes of Scorpius Malfoy, she hadn't changed at all. She's always been that girl who kept still and quiet with her head buried in a massive book but still scored one of the highest in their year - making Albus and Scorpius her two opponents in academics.

But see, she never cared about that. For all he knew, she was only trying to keep her marks high for his father's - Ron Weasley's - expectation that she would turn out to be like their mother, Hermione Granger-Weasley.

Ergo, the young Malfoy did not really see her as his competition - because, reality check, she's a clumsy Quidditch player.

But why, on Earth, would he be staring at her right now - for Merlin knows how long? And why, would his mate, Isaac Zabini, be snickering beside him with a spoonful of mashed peas in this very hall?

Questions. So many questions.

"Scorpius, really, what's the matter with the Weasley weirdo?" Zabini said, chuckling. Scorpius sighed and finally looked down on his slice of pumpkin pie, stabbing it with his fork. "Shut up, mate."

The olive-toned lad rolled his eyes and elbowed him lightly, "You shut up. It's been about - _hell!_ It's about the whole lunch hour that you've been watching her like some kind of a stalker. And that's really not as good as it sounded, you know."

It was his time to roll his eyes and spared a glance in her direction again, seeing that she was just getting up from her seat and was leaving the Great Hall with her massive book in her arm that he can barely make out as _'Hogwarts: A History (Extended)'_.

It was almost nearing December, the time when the snow ought to fall out. He loved those days. Those days where he could just sit under a tree nearby the frozen lake of Hogwarts and marvel across its beauty.

Because, when the snow came, he's at peace. Scorpius had a thing about little things – which was really the case with Rose Weasley.

"I'm not looking at her at all, Zabini. So be quiet and just hand me some of that muffin."

* * *

It was still on Scorpius' mind about how his sudden change of attention-giving overwhelmed him. It wasn't as if he and the Weasley girl was in speaking terms before. Of course, he might have nodded at her in the corridors as they were assigned together in their rounds for their prefect duties - but even then, he couldn't recall speaking to her unless it was absolutely about their tasks – or anything absolutely necessary. Maybe about one time when they were young and that their parents have met up for an unfortunate discussion about some Ministry cases, as both were Aurors - but he could barely remember. For all he knew, it was just a mere strange dream.

So why would the young blond be stopping his tracks when he saw the fizzy-haired ginger alone, huddling over her blanket and reading a book.

And God forbid, why was it as if the tick of the massive clock in the Astronomy Tower became slowly, very rigidly still? As if all of the sudden, he's the only one moving, watching her from about twenty metres, tops?

Scorpius' breathing stopped – and in that moment, when she slowly lifted her head to look at him, his heart had skipped a beat.

He hadn't cared for her attention before. Why would he be breaking those years of muted-ness now?

_So._

So… he gathered up all his courage – his _Slytherin _courage, which he wasn't even aware it existed before this very event – and carefully strode toward her.

The young Malfoy plastered on a smirk that was basically carried on through different generations and spoke quietly, never breaking the gaze created by the latter. "You know, your mother punched my father in the face when they were little. Thirteen, I think."

Rose looked away from him and back to her book. She sighed and closed her eyes, "Yes, well, you've told me this before."

_Wait, what?_ "When?" He asked. In return, she shook her head and he sat in front of her. "I doubt that we've even talked besides prefect duties."

She opened her eyes and glanced down at her hands. "Yeah? Well, don't mind it then. It's really not that eventful."

"Yes, but I really would like to know." He murmured.

Rose smiled slightly, as if she knew something he didn't. And that, quite frankly, bothered him. After all, it's not every day he goes around telling that his father was punched by a girl.

And his old man was really something different from what he kept hearing around here. They say a lot about him had changed after the war. And Scorpius didn't blame his father about anything. He was a good father to him – gave him the right advice and guided him in making the right decisions.

Then, Rose put down her book and looked at his grey eyes again. Blue and grey, meeting together. Somehow, he have felt something in that moment when their eyes met. It sent him a slight shiver down his spine that made his heart beat a little faster. But - knowing Scorpius - he let it slip away almost immediately it has appeared and therefore proceeded to hearing the answer that he was never exactly expecting.

"Why are you doing this, Malfoy?"

And he had no other reply but a smirk and an "I don't really think that it's appropriate for you to ask that question within a few words exhanged."

_Smooth, Malfoy. Smooth._

Rose just shook her head - entertained, not annoyed - and returned back to her reading. Scorpius, however, fetched his quill from his rucksack and wrote a note on a small parchment of paper. He folded it into one of those origami paper crane and dropped it unknowingly as soon as a booming voice echoed through the area, "Oy! Malfoy! Get your bloody bum off of my cousin's face!"

Both of them raised their heads to look up at the bothersome ruiner of the peace and quiet.

_Albus Severus Potter - The heir of all things doomed and flawless timings._

* * *

_"That was a bit comforting, thank you very much." said Harry Potter, sipping his lemon tea. "Well, to start off, I'm really quite certain that I was actually very distracted that very moment when I met her."_

_Harry paused, looking straight at the wall. "Obviously, I've always known that she will be one of the most beautiful women that I will ever lay my eyes on. You know, just that. She bid me 'good luck' quite rather shakily and then I ran through the platform." He smiled, "I was so excited that day - it's myself discovering this new world that I actually belonged in, see. And it was a shame that I forgot all about her after that. Well, I'm too young to say that I'm in love or what - because, frankly, I'm not. But yeah, I guess time made those assumptions connect."_

_Then, he sighed and closed his eyes. "Actually, I look back and wonder why I was ever so worried."_


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: **I own what I own and not what JKR owns. Thank you very much.

* * *

_**As the Rain Falls**_

**Chapter 2:**

_Ron Weasley glanced at his watch. It read 3:45 pm. "You know, life is funny sometimes." __The ginger chuckled lightly, "And I mean that by how it plays with you and you can't seem to find out why. I know because I've experienced it. I've been daft and all - but see, it's whether you win or you lose."_

_He looked at his glass of water and closed his eyes. "It's just, it's bad because there's the presence of time. And characters. And other possibilities. And I must confess that I've been quite daft as I was young back then and I never really saw what's in front of me." Ron shook his head, "I rarely get the clue. If you were to ask me how I got here, I would've taken all the credit - but if I'm being truly honest, I'd have to say it's all because of Hermione. She's my partner in the game."_

_Ron licked his lips, sighing. "It doesn't mean that if no one's laughing then that it wasn't funny."_

* * *

The words of Albus Potter did not stop Scorpius Malfoy to hang out with Rose Weasley.

_"Believe me, Malfoy - if you neared Rose again, that chance in the Auror Training will never even get close to you. I swear."_

However, from that eventful day by the lake, the young Malfoy refused to go near Weasley again. He thought it was insane to even be there last week, why would he do it again? It's just not the_ Malfoy way._

So, after sickeningly avoiding her around the bounds of the school - even though he still had his eyes glued every time she moved - Scorpius promised to himself that after all this bullshit, he was ready to stop and move on. Hogwarts was the last draw.

Besides, if Potter was really _that_ serious, then he couldn't risk Auror Training for a _mere _girl.

But being the hero his father was, he knew that the boy-who-lived wouldn't allow his son to be that cunning.

Now, in the library sat Scorpius, a book of _'History of Magic (Volume IX)' _in his hand studying for his next exam, a massive book - probably those books about Arithmancy - slammed down on his table.

_What the hell?_ He immediately thought.

Albus Potter looked down on the blond boy with much hatred than he did before. "Malfoy."

Scorpius glanced at the bloke before rolling his eyes. "What is it that you could've wanted, Potter?"

"What did you do to Rose?"

Then, the Slytherin was baffled. What _did _he do to Rose? In the name of Merlin, he didn't even touch her since _that_ day! That's just unjust. He's not even thrilled with the fact that Potter would've thought that about him. Like it was in his stereotype to hang out with a Weasley - or any one from their clan in that matter. "What _would_ I do to Rose?"

Albus' eyes flared angrily, moving his face closer to the other lad. "If _you_, by _any_ means, made Rose cry again, I will surely make your life a _living_ _hell_. And I'll see to it that you _will_ _not_ _ever_ _reproduce_."

"Watch your words, Potter. Surely, anything I'd do to that poor ginger would make me stoop a whole new low." He smirked, "Besides, this low - of talking to you - is making me gag already."

The Gryffindor grabbed Malfoy's jumper, pulling him out of his seat. His eyes narrowed into slits, and his sudden aggressiveness made Scorpius flinched (but hell, he wouldn't give the satisfaction of showing to Potter that he did) and immediately grabbed his wand from the back pocket of his trousers. "I know how you're _always_ _watching_ Rose, Malfoy. Now _believe_ _me_, because I swear I'd hex you into oblivion if you do _not_ leave her alone from your silly, little games."

Again, he smirked. "We'll see it then, Potter, won't we? Now back to your ludicrous _loo-genda_, you're giving me a rash."

He released him harshly and scowled, "Remember what I said, you bloody git."

"You talk too much, arsehole."

Surely, their little conversation by the lake did not made Rose allergic to air or something, did it? For the looks of it, she was even quite entertained with him that day. So why had Albus Potter came _barging_ around here, demanding if he was in a case concerning of Rose Weasley?

His brain was nagging him to keep his mouth zipped, but he guessed it had a mind of its own now for he blurted out his curiosity without even thinking about what might cause it. "What happened?"

Potter turned around to leave, but Malfoy's question halted him into a stop. He spun around to meet his gaze and said, "I found her last night in a broom closet near the kitchens."

"Even _Hufflepuffs_ can do such plans. Especially that Scamander. Why accuse me so easily?"

"You really don't remember, do you?" Albus shook his head and finally left him.

Why did it seem that most of the _Potter-Weasley_ clan knew more about him than he did? What the hell happened back when they were kids? Did any of them have this super memory that all of them can remember back when they were, _like what_, toddlers?

Of course, Scorpius knew _- and he knew very well_ - that they were somehow interacting when they were kids. His father was involved in the case of looking for some of the Death Eaters that managed to get away for trial – thus, saving the Malfoys from being thrown in Azkaban (apart from Lucius Malfoy, of course).

He had some dreams about them before, like how they were chasing each other with low flying brooms in the manor's garden. And he knew that those weren't just dreams, too. Because it had happened, and he felt it. His memory of the past had its blanks spots so he couldn't really grasp it as a whole.

But the clearest memory that the young Malfoy had was back when they were eight - anything beyond that was... well, spotty.

* * *

For about three weeks, Hogwarts would again be out for the holidays.

On the day after the little buzz in the library, owls were sent over breakfast - and some were not merely _house owls nor the prophet's_; some were from the Ministry. In fact, two letters were received by Scorpius - one was with the heavy envelope and delicate texture; the other was a familiar envelope with intricate design having the Malfoy emblem on it.

He first took care of the heavy envelope - for it's not every day that he got to have these letters. A button containing the Ministry's seal was used to press the letter close. Malfoy picked the button and read the letter.

_**Mr. Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy;**_

_Good day!_

_The Ministry of Magic will be holding its annual Yule Ball for a cause. All of the most powerful families in the Wizarding World is invited for this undertaking._

_This concerned you because you are now of age to attend this event and we do cordially encourage for you to._

_The ball will be held in the Ministry Atrium on the 23rd of December, 2024._

_Best of luck for everyone,_

_**Clementine Waterspock**_

_Head for the Department of International Magical Cooperation_

Scorpius shook his head, thinking that these Ministry businesses were all barmy. He opened the other letter that's basically from his parents.

_**Scorpius,**_

_By this time, your mother and I are expecting that you've received the Ministry's invitation to the Yule Ball. Of course, we would – again – expect that you know by now what this means._

_We will talk about things after the holidays. Do give us the pride of you having the best grades in your year. I do not want to go to a graduation without my son having any academic achievement. _

_Study well. I don't want to be owled for any of your misbehaviours. Remember that this year is your last year and it will define your place in the Wizarding World._

_**Your father.**_

_P.S. Your mother would like to see you soon for your robe fitting. Meet us near Diagon Alley after you get off from the express._

"I see that you've been invited by the Ministry, too." Isaac said, almost crumpling his parchment.

He nodded, "Yeah. You're father wrote, then?"

"You know it. Talking about having '_the talk' _after Christmas. Ugh. It's making me gag."

"I don't really get it, either." Malfoy sighed, "It's as if we're going to escape the cruelty. It's going to happen in the future, so why do we even have to talk about them?"

"I hate old-fashioned families." And they both agreed to that, clinking their goblets together.

The headmistress, Minerva McGonagall, cleared her throat, getting their attention. "Settle down, students!"

The loud chattering in the Great Hall stopped, all looking in front of them. "Good. Now, before finishing your breakfast, I want to ask the seventh years to stay right after. All of your first period will be excusing you." She looked around, "Yes, well, you may continue."

Again, the conversations arose everywhere, but all having the same topic: What matters could Minerva McGonagall want to talk about, even excusing them from their first periods?

"What do you reckon it'll be?" Nott Jr. asked from Scorpius' other side.

"Guess we'll have to find out. Now, be quiet and stop being impatient, I'm eating." He drawled, catching a certain eye with colours of the sea.

It's not a secret that the seventh year students would have '_the talk_' with their headmaster/headmistress because, well, of their possible endorsement to their potential careers in the future. But, seeing that she have to announce this in breakfast instead of owling and meeting up one-by-one in her office was quite questionable.

After about half an hour, the Great Hall was filtered away, cleaning the place of sixth year students and below.

Dominique Weasley and Klenn Finnigan, the Heads, were called in front. They were handed a pile of paper each to distribute to the seventh years. The headmistress waved her wand and the food from the tables suddenly disappeared, leaving a stack of _ink-ed quills_ for each of the students.

"Now, I know that you are all familiar of the certain measures that we take for your future outside of the school." The headmistress began. "Well, for this year, we might have modified the interviews in a simpler way because the request for applications were sent far too early. And they are much more open to internships."

Whispers around the Hall started. "I thought we do internship after Hogwarts!"

"What? I have to find a job as early as now?"

"I don't want to work."

"Yeah, well, the next issue of the prophet will have a word about this."

"Ooh, I want to work for the Quibbler!"

"Auror Training, here I go!"

"Silence!" McGonagall demanded, and the whispers were brought to a low to muted volume. "From the month of April to May, each of you will have to have your internship. Miss Weasley and Mister Finnigan are going to distribute the forms and the diagnostic exam for you to fill out." She sighed, "And fill them wisely. You are all of age witches and wizards. I do not want to see someone goofing around and writing nonsense – detention will be distributed for those who do so."

Scorpius stared at his paper and wrote the proper information needed. He stopped as he saw the fifth blank in his form: _Write three (3) career options._

The young Malfoy thought about it for a minute and wrote down '_Auror, Quidditch player, and Prophet Columnist.'_

Actually, the first option was the only one he wanted. It's all or nothing.

Then, he wondered just how small his chances were in having the same internship with Rose Weasley.

* * *

**A/N: **Hello, guys! Thank you for the views and follows and favorites! I hope I did well in the first chapter :) And good news is I now know where I'm headed with this story! Yes, well, with that, you can give your **reviews **of congratulations and commend me for updating quickly ;) Haha, kidding. But please do leave some reviews - I want to see how I'm doing and if there's some clarifications needed.

By the way, this chapter will be edited some time later. My uni works matter so I have to allot a lot of time for that.

**Thanks for reading!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **This is the 3rd chapter of As the Rain Falls! Please review, though :) I would like to hear what you'd think. And are my italics - the interviews - doing well so far?

**Disclaimer: **Even though I can't have the series, can I have the Malfoys? No? Ok.

* * *

_**As the Rain Falls**_

**Chapter 3:**

It wasn't that Scorpius Malfoy was always hungry. Sure he likes food, but not the way Goyle did - he basically vacuums food in his system. Which was basically disgusting.

But _not tonight_ - tonight was one of the nights that being the captain of the Slytherin Quidditch Team did a toll on him. Training was done five hours ago, and it was long past curfew but he still risked suspension from prefect duties and dismissal from Quidditch to sneak for food.

And here he was, in front of the portrait of the kitchens, surrounded by a disillusionment charm that he casted for himself. He glanced at his watch and touched door on the picture until the girl of the painting - grunting and looking like a murderer for having her sleep disturbed - looked around for the disturbance.

Scorpius lifted the spell from himself and plastered on a forced smile - he surely didn't like the new portrait more than the previous.

The girl, though, recognizing that it was a student and a prefect, quickly rattled on about how he should be an example for the younger ones and stay in the bed on wee hours of the night. The blond just rolled his eyes and said the password - _that_ he knew because of Goyle's noisy night trips.

Well, in his defense, Scorpius was the only one in the team who didn't have dinner because of purposely strategizing their victory for their next match against the Gryffindor Quidditch Team. And the house cup trophy was really appealing to have as his legacy in his final year_._

_Scorpius Malfoy, the superlatively beautiful creature who won the house cup because of consistently winning his matches over Albus Potter - the loser face_.

It was about three years since they've won the cup, anyway.

He was surprised when he walked inside the portrait hole to find the house elves preoccupied enough to notice his loud entrance. But he was more surprised to find as to what the reason was.

Rose Weasley glanced up at him with a grin on her face, her arms unseen.

_Invisibility_ _cloak_, he thought.

Scorpius let out a little smile and raised a curious brow, "Weasley?" Apparently he wasn't the only one planning to vaccuum food out of their plates for tonight, seeing hers was full of mashed potatoes and chicken drumsticks.

"Malfoy." She said after swallowing, "Good to see you here." Rose patted the counter top next to where she was sitting - another counter top.

The house elves' eyes widened, looking at him and quickly ushering up to his aid. "What could young master want?"

"Would young master want some cake?"

"I prepared some turkey, young master!"

"Young master Scorpius surely wants what Gippy cooks!"

"No, don't listen to him, young master - Bubby cooks better pie!"

Scorpius hushed them and sat on the counter top. "I'm quite baffled to see you here. I'm _surely_ not taking you before as the pig-out type."

Rose returned to eating her food, "Maybe you shouldn't judge how people are beyond the robes they're wearing then."

"Maybe I shouldn't." He agreed_. But she was just so skinny!_

A second of silence followed. The house elves then began to scream voluntary chores to be done by them for him and he only shook his head, wishing for a plate of corned beef sandwich and a cup of hot coffee. The house elves quickly nodded, happy to be serving the young Malfoy. In a few minutes, about ten of them were holding a plate and a cup. Scorpius rolled his eyes and took one of each from a house elf. The other nine seemed to be disappointed and on the brink of crying.

"You hurt them." Rose whispered, barely audible. She's watching the elves comforting each other.

"Yeah, well, life isn't fair." He replied harshly, biting his sandwich.

She looked down, embarrassed, and continued eating. He watched her from the corner of his eyes, feeling quite guilty because of his unintended tone (he's tired and hungry, so his foul mood was reasonable).

He sighed. "Look, it's their job to serve us - it's not like their forced here or something. It's their purpose. If they weren't basically chosen in their first try, they tend to try better the next. They have their little disappointments, but it doesn't mean that they'll go sulking around or getting drunk with butterbeers or that lot."

"You're right." She murmured, "They have that purpose, which get them going through the day. But don't you think that it get them down when all they see and hear are all rejections?"

"Isn't that why we should do that?" He asked, "They've found something that only them are destined to do, so they should be best at it, shouldn't them? I mean, they wouldn't get to the top if all they're hearing are words of rainbows and unicorns. They ought to have criticism and be sure to make that as a way of being the best.

"It might push them to tears, but I'm sure as hell that it's worth it."

Rose nodded, placing her plate beside her. "Wise words from someone whose ears have been bombarded with praises all his life."

Scorpius almost choked on his coffee - and it bloody left him a burnt tongue. "Gippy! Get me some water."

Gippy immediately handed him a glass of cold water and smiled, "Anything for young master!"

He waved him off and gulped down the cold drink, relieving him from a scarred tongue for days. "Are you kidding me, Weasley? Your cousin _single handedly_ tried to bring me down with his deeply wounding words every day of my stay in Hogwarts - but he ought to try harder. Still, that's not the point."

She chuckled, "Yes, that is indeed an exception. What I mean is, you're Scorpius Malfoy - one of the richest heirs in the whole wizarding world. What's a mere school rivalry comparing to a horse with a diamond saddle?"

"A mere school rivalry, Weasley, is one of the bothersome ruiners of this comfort zone built with massive boulders that I have to encounter before facing the real world."

"Well that's why it was the added colour red, wasn't it? Because it prepares you for the worst. The thing that makes you strive for more."

The thing with Rose Weasley, Scorpius had realized, that she never stopped asking questions. And those questions, insulting or not, would always lead to a point where he could no longer answer them.

And he also realized that she's right. That it's not enough that criticism was all one should hear. That it's always nice to have to hear something good for a change. The thing that adds the colour blue - peace.

Rose jumped down from her counter top and handed Bubby her plate. She turned to Scorpius and said, "So I'll see you around, then?"

"You probably _will_, even if I say no." He joked. She chuckled and made her way to the door. "Will you be here tomorrow night, though?"

She stopped and answered without turning around to face him, "I'm always here."

* * *

For the next few nights, Scorpius showed up in the kitchens. He always saw her there, eating mashed potatoes that goes around with whatever meat the house elves prepare for her. It had been a routine that he sits beside her counter top, basically having his sandwich with different variation and his cup of hot coffee.

They talked about their families, about their views on the politics, about their fathers - and how they never seemed to get along. But _tonight_, they talked about fears.

"I don't have a specific phobia or whatever fear there is. I mean, the only thing that I should be scared of is the future, right?" Scorpius had said. "Because I have no way of knowing what to expect."

Rose nodded, "But I wouldn't believe that you don't have a fear that really applies to the present or something... solid. Everyone has - I, for one, am afraid of narrow or cramped spaces."

"Well, I can't think of any," he muttered, "Although, I'd get back to you on that."

"However, I also can't deny about the fact that you're right. That ought to be afraid for the future, because that's the only thing we have the misfortune of not knowing. And will probably never know until we get there." She murmured.

"Unless, _we're_ _seers_." He remarked.

"Unless, we're seers." She agreed, smiling.

"So why," Scorpius started, "are we still looking forward to it when we never really know what we're looking forward to?"

Rose met his eyes, "Isn't it obvious? _Hope_."

* * *

The heated match between Gryffindor and Slytherin ended rather violently. They scored 360-340, with the Gryffindor winning. Half of each team ended in the Hospital Wing - including Albus Potter. The Slytherin team caught the snitch, though, but things went physical before that and the match had to be ended before things got terribly worse. Scorpius knew that - so he risked the second match against the Gryffindor and dove for the snitch, before any of his mates could lose a limb from falling off fifty feet high.

Surprisingly, Potter's team was quite aggressive. He thought that it was because they were probably aiming for a recommendation for a slot in the competing teams in the Quidditch World Cup. If ever Scorpius was not _Scorpius_, he would understand - unfortunately, he was him. And boy was he furious.

Theodore Nott Jr., one of the bruised but well enough to avoid the ward, assisted Greece Hythe, the team chaser, to the locker room. "What the hell happened there?!" Scorpius furiously spat, "We almost won! We almost kick those Gryffindor arses! So tell me what the hell happened, Nott!"

He threw his broom angrily at the wall, "We have been practicing this for ages! There are no more room for mistakes in the game!"

"Scorpius -" Hythe began, but was cut off by the blond's continuous rants whilst pacing in front of them. "All they did was pull your robes or threw the quaffle at you, and you basically flinched! How weak can you be! It's like I took my eye away from a minute, and then you're all in a bloody misfit -"

"Malfoy!" Nott called out. Scorpius stopped and glared at the disruption. Nott shook his head, "Malfoy, I think you better go in the infirmary with the lot. You're quite a mess yourself."

"What are you talking about? I don't feel -"

Just then, he caught a reflection of himself in the window, his platinum hair now soaked with velvet red, his face have dried blood all over it. He reached over to touch his wound and applied pressure to it. He felt _nothing_.

That night, Scorpius' laid on the bed of his ward, staring at the ceiling. His sudden numbness didn't excite him to well. It basically screamed that there's something wrong with his body.

Bur he knew not to dwell on it too much - it was the first time that happened, anyway. Maybe, that wound wasn't really that deep. It wasn't as if it was a wound that would require about _seven_ _stitches_! After the first five stitches, he was ready to go. But the old Madam Pomfrey forced him - practically strapped him - to stay for the night, all the while muttering how he inherited his stubbornness from his father.

It would be good for him to sleep. His nights for the past few were composed of sneaking in the kitchens with a girl in possession of the most colourful collection of _Pokemon_ pyjamas and two to three hours of bed time. And he wasn't like that. Sleep should be a priority for an athlete like him.

Still, Scorpius hung on to the thought that in less than two weeks, he'd see his mother and father again. And his grandmother, Narcissa - the one who taught him how to treat a lady. He loved them. Apart from his father's constant wave of pressure, he's kind of happy about his life.

He can't sleep, that's for sure. So he got up, made the bed and thinking of walking to the kitchens. A voice inside his head whispered. _Not tonight_. And he knew more than that to oblige.

Instead, the young Malfoy headed for the dungeons, grabbed his cloak, and went out.

The snow had just started falling. The grounds, peaceful and utterly beautiful, was covered with a blanket of white. Even Hagrid's little hut seemed a bit like a real home now, with the little puffs of smoke in its chimney.

Scorpius checked the time: _12:37 am_. He walked towards the lake and sat on the edge. The lake was not yet frozen, but it looked as if it will be in a matter of hours. He grabbed a fistful of snow and hurled it at the lake. "Stupid Albus Potter." He closed his eyes and let himself fall back.

The coldness of the snow didn't really settle in his body. It was as if he wasn't even cold, that this day was just like those windy nights - too cold for the night, but not enough in a winter night.

And he thought about what was happening, how he should be avoiding Rose, how his father would react if he knew those binds from their childhood was never really off. Why did he even feel as if he should be burdened to get near her? Sure, she's witty and have her share of beauty - but that's just it, wasn't it? Because he was curious, because he had nothing better to do.

And Scorpius realized that he had suffered the consequences of fancying Rose Weasley.

"I don't _fancy_ her." He whispered to himself. And planned to _avoid_ the kitchens.

* * *

_"No," Narcissa Malfoy chuckled, "My marriage didn't fall out because we don't love each other. I mean, Lucius was the love of my life. Whenever I get sick, he'd be at my side and reading me stories or talking nonsense that only we can find hilarity._

_"My marriage fell out because, well, we had to keep our son safe. It was the darkest of times then, and we can't lose someone now as we're a mere family of three. It's just us and we had to protect each other." She sighed. "He sure was uptight and strict with regards to Draco, but I'm betting my life on it that he loved him as much as he loved himself. If it was in another universe and another life, I would certainly dig the core just to find him and fall in love all over again."_

* * *

**_PLEASE REVIEW!_**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: **I already have the next chapter ;) And I'll probably update every Wednesdays/Weekends.

This isn't my favorite chapter at all, but I guess you guys have to pay attention to some things. I mean, you really must.

Oh, and the story might take about 25-30 chapters and will more likely have a sequel - if it's demanded. I'm sure that if the ending was read, there will be because I can't end it the way it will (pls humor me i can't understand myself too)

Yeah, **PLEASE REVIEW!**

**Disclaimer: **I own what I own. Geez, I'm not an English billionaire who happen to be under the pseudonym of J.K. Rowling.

* * *

_**As the Rain Falls**_

_**Chapter 4:**_

It was the last day before their long-awaited holidays. Hogwarts was full of light conversations about the students' plan for their break, and what they were expecting to get on Christmas. The seventh years, however, were buzzing about the Ministry Ball (mostly the Slytherins) and their internship.

It was breakfast in the Great Hall when Scorpius caught a pair of azure eyes looking back at him. He stared back indifferently and looking away almost immediately, sighing.

For a week and a half, he had avoided going to the kitchens, knowing very well that she'd be waiting. Even on his rounds, he never dared to pass the portrait - if he was so, he'd be running as fast as he could from it. In short, he avoided it like it was _plague._

_Why?_

Well, for starters, Scorpius Malfoy realized that he'd caught the unbearable feeling that he had been looking at someone... _differently._ Not the way he looked at his constant hook ups or his female acquaintances. No - it was more than that. It was... unlike any of what he'd felt before.

And it's such a bother that it had been _Rose Weasley._

Like, why couldn't it be Francine Chase? Or that Charlotte Eaves from Ravenclaw? _She's got some nice rack._

_But_ Rose Weasley? What's so special about Rose Weasley? She's a mere daughter of war heroes - who just happened to get rich because of what they did when they were teenagers. Also, she's the child of his father's_ enemy-turned-okay-creatures_! What's in her system that she's the one that he can't stop thinking about when - _well,_ whenever?

At this, the young Malfoy shook his head and reached for a slice of pie in front of him. Isaac Zabini eyed him curiously, pausing his meal. "Scorpius?"

Scorpius arched an eyebrow, "What?"

"Are you sure you're going to eat that?" He asked incredulously. The blond rolled his eyes and took a bite, "Uh, I just did?"

"How did it taste like?" Zabini asked.

Malfoy paused, trying to distinguish the taste, _"Crumby,_ but it's alright. Tasty, even."

"Mate," the olive-toned lad murmured, "those are liver pie."

The blond's eyes widened like tea saucers, "The _fuck_ -" then, he started to spit the contains of it to his plate, to which his seatmate, Claudius Goyle, inched away from him, sneering. "Disgusting, Malfoy."

"Why didn't you tell me!" He scolded him, "That was the most uneventful second of my life! Isaac, you piece of shit!"

"Mate, I asked you before eating it - like, _what the hell_ were you thinking, eating that? You know you hate liver!"

Everyone in the Slytherin table were watching them now; even some of the Hufflepuffs turned around to see the commotion.

"I do! God, I swear this won't - _fuck!_ I have to brush my tongue off." He stood up, slung his rucksack on his shoulder, and walked away from the hall.

God, how he hated liver. It's just, the taste and the texture - Merlin, it was ludicrously _disgusting!_

But why had he not felt that when he bit it?

Bloody hell, this Rose business was even taking over his bloody senses. It's idiotic! It's as if she was slowly going over his everything - even the food that he ought not to eat, he's been eating and very damn well dictating that it was alright and even tasty!

"What a joke." He muttered, heading for the toilets.

After scrubbing his mouth off from the crumby texture in his mouth, Scorpius was greeted by a small hand covering his mouth, pushing him on the wall. In his shock, he didn't even have the chance to react - only how his eyes widened to see who it was.

_Dominique Weasley._

Scorpius eyed her curiously, never forgetting the sneer. She slowly moved her hand away when she felt like he wasn't going to scream bloody murder. "Malfoy."She nodded curtly, "I'm sorry for the interruption, but I have to tell you something. I know you and Rose have been seeing each other in the kitchens every night."

"Yeah, like a week." He huffed, rolling his eyes. "How did you even know?"

"She talks about it in her sleep," she quickly waved the subject off, "any way, I'm warning you - if ever there was anyone lurking around you two, even around Albus, avoid it the best way that you can."

Scorpius' mouth went slightly agape, utterly curious. What the hell was Dominique Weasley going on about? Were they in some kind of danger? Or was she basically just toying him? Oh, and did Rose Weasley really talk about him in her slumber?

"Why are you telling me all this?"

"Just trust me on this. I have the worst feeling about that wretched ball." Dominique hissed. "Besides, you shall never forget that your father, together with Uncle Harry, Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione, brought down the few remaining followers of Voldemort. And something's just not clicking."

He looked at her, annoyed. "What? You're one of Trelawney's teacher pets now, reading tea leaves and looking at glass balls?"

She rolled her eyes and turned away, "It's not going to be very good. Nobody in the Ministry is named as Clementine Waterspock. Minister Kingsley told me so."

_Oh. Right._ She was some kind of assistant to the Minister last summer - that's why she was recommended as Head Girl.

"Then why has my father alerted me that I've received my letter?" He asked.

"That's what also happened with Albus' letter. And Rose's as well. But do tell me, do you think your father would've alerted you?"

And it clicked. _No, he don't._ "So are you telling me -"

"That the letters have been sabotaged?" She knowingly continued. "Just my theory."

"But Isaac received the letter too!"

"Zabini?" He nodded. "Well, is it from the Waterspock persona? I highly doubt it. And did the letter from his parents talked about the Ministry Ball?" She walked away from him, not even looking back when he'd call her name.

_Okay._ He thought._ I should just ask him._

* * *

It was in the afternoon when Scorpius finally saw Isaac again - in the only class that they have together this day; in Potions with old Professor Horace Slughorn. "Hey, mate."

"Yeah, Scorpius?" Isaac said, looking at his minced gillyweed.

"From who was the Ministry letter addressed? You know, from about three weeks ago?" Scorpius asked.

"Oh, it was from -" then, it was like a shiver went through Zabini's body. His eyes went slightly unfocused and dazed - and Scorpius took it that Isaac was just trying to remember.

He shook his head as if nothing happened and turned back to the blond. "Clementine Waterspock." The lad then went back to his brewing potion.

The young Malfoy nodded, thinking that Head Girl Weasley was mardy and dense.

* * *

The next day, Scorpius got up early and packed his baggage. It was only six in the morning and they are due to aboard the Hogwarts Express by eight.

After packing, he went out of the dungeon and walked up to the Astronomy Tower to take in the last sight of the Hogwarts quadrangle for the year. He arranged his scarf and stepped out to the terrace overlooking the lake and the greenery of the opening of the Forbidden Forest.

Unfortunately, he found someone with fiercely red hair occupying the area. Upon seeing Rose Weasley, he quickly turned around to walk away, but it was too late. She had seen him already.

_"Malfoy?"_ She said, surprised. He cursed to himself and faced her. "Hey, Weasley."

Scorpius walked towards the balcony, leaning on the railings beside her.

"I knew you'd be going here." Rose murmured. And he knew to himself that he was. After avoiding the kitchens, he always arrived here. If Rose had her kitchens, he have this._ The place where they finds solemnity._

He nodded, smirking. "So I get it that you're here because of me?"

She looked disappointed, as if she wasn't expecting this attitude. And it left the lad a twinge of guilt and pain that he's causing her this. "Yes. I just... Can I ask why you're not going in the kitchens anymore?"

He snorted, acting like he doesn't care at all. "Oh, I didn't realize that you've been counting on my appearances."

Rose's brows furrowed, "I didn't mean it that way, Malfoy. It's just that -"

"It's just what? That we're suddenly friends just because? Weasley, _please."_ He scoffed, "I know that my undeniably good looks might've attracted you, but us? We're not..._ going to be._"

"What do you mean?" She innocently questioned, "Do you think I fancy you?"

"It's not that I'm assuming, I just thought that it was common knowledge. And," his smirked widened, "don't make a big deal about our talks. You know how I easily get bored and in need of distractions every now and then."

"Look, Malfoy, I don't know what you're talking about, but I wanted to ask why you didn't come when you asked me. About seeing the snow's first fall together." She turned around and walked away.

Scorpius stared at her back, moving farther away from him. "Weasley, are you serious?"

Rose stopped but refusing to face him. He heard her let out a little embarrassed laugh, "Yes, I kind of am." She continued to leave, leaving him confused.

* * *

Isaac slammed his hand on Scorpius' back, with his other hand levitating his own trunk. The lot have finally arrived in Platform 9 and 3/4, bidding their good byes and see you soon with each other. "Scorpius, my father told me to go with you. They're meeting us in Madam Malkin's, right?"

Scorpius nodded, eyeing a ginger family from a distance, "Yeah. Do we travel by foot or we apparate?"

"Are you daft? Of course we apparate. Willy had my father to come and fetch our things so we can go freely." He said. And exactly at the moment, Willy, the Zabini's house elf, greeted Isaac and Scorpius politely.

"Willy shall take young master Isaac's luggage to his room and Willy will give Skippy young master Scorpius' luggage in the manor." The elf said.

"Yes, and told Skippy not to shake the luggage too much. There's a fragile object inside it." The blond commanded, never taking his eyes off of the ginger lot.

Willy gave them one last nod and apparated away, together with their trunks. Isaac followed Scorpius' stare and chuckled, "I guess old habits die hard, eh?"

"Really, Isaac, apart from Albus bloody Potter, you're the most annoying person to ever graced this land." He retorted. "Sod off."

"But, really," Isaac began, walking towards the apparition spot, "the way you look at her... It's really different."

Malfoy sighed, "Just leave the issue be, Isaac. I'm just going through a phase."

Before they apparated, he saw - with much surprise - that Rose Weasley looked at him directly in the eyes, her stare speaking to him, but he couldn't fathom what it said.

With a loud pop, a massive sucking sensation lifted them out of the platform and in a corner near Diagon Alley.

* * *

_George Weasley laughed, remembering a memory. "You know when my brother Fred died, his last words to me were 'Never let mum have the sickles, always the galleons.' Until now, I can still hear him say it, to give mum the galleons when we emptied that death eater's pockets. Merlin, he should've seen our mum, killing Bellatrix Lestrange like she's her superior. He'd never let mum off of it. God, that one's funny." _

_He paused, looking straight ahead. "At first, I asked myself why I wasn't the one who died in the battle, when all I've got is an ear and a booming business. Fred's still perfect. He's still got his ears. Both of them. But why was he the one killed? I never got it. But Alicia, my wife," George smiled, "told me that the thing about Fred dying was to give me a chance to live my life. She told me that Fred died so I can continue this scarred life without an ear - and this is my thought about that: if one of us can't be perfect, one of us should die. Just kidding."_


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: **Hey guys! Fast update, eh? Well, gimme some **REVIEWS! **- yes, I feel the need to bold the letters :)

And as you can notice, the events in the story are quite fast paced; of how Scorpius fancied Rose - in my defense, he already quite liked her as depicted in the first chapter AND that this story will not only comprise of their lives in Hogwarts. I have to get them out of here as soon as possible. Because the _main _plot twist is in the ~outside world~ Anyway, just read and review and enjoy this!

Oh, and the next updates might take some time to be uploaded. My Microsoft Office 2013 went barmy and got unlicensed. I'm still trying to fix that.

By the way, I had a miscalculation. Back in chapter two, I input 2023 when their seventh year should be 2024. I'm sorry and I changed it :)

**Disclaimer: **Okay, I'm so bored of typing this - and it hurts too - that I do not own HP.

* * *

_**As the Rain Falls**_

_**Chapter 5:**_

_"The thing that I've realized - even coming from all of these... wreck, that every hero's heartbreak is stitched by the very person that bid you your first good luck in entering Platform 9 and 3/4." Harry Potter continued, "__"Years will pass, but that's the thing about true love, it stays the same. No matter what might happen - together or not._

___"_And see, Ginny, well, she's the love of my life. Now, I'm so happy that I've got her as my wife. Forever."

* * *

It was the twenty second of December, year two thousand and twenty-four, that Scorpius Malfoy decided to come to Diagon Alley to buy his mother a present.

The blond checked every store there was to find the perfect gift, but having empty handed in the end. In his defense, though, he found this vintage locket - but noted that only his grandmother appreciates those, and that he got that for her.

_So,_ in hopes of coming up with something, he went to one of The Leaky Cauldron's floo network and traversed to his aunt's - Daphne Zabini's, _nee_ Greengrass - place.

He landed on the dirty fireplace with a loud thud from his lower back and a face full of charcoal all together. The Zabini's house elf, Willy, welcomed him. "Welcome, young master Malfoy! Shall Willy serve young master his favorite sandwich?"

"No," Scorpius shook his head, "Just call Averie for me. I need to ask her something. Make it quick."

Willy nodded, and with a loud _pop,_ he was gone and the young Malfoy was left alone.

Scorpius paced back and forth in the manor's parlor, glancing at the door every now and then. The parlor's granite flooring was ostentatiously polished and the curtains of silver silk were put to the side in order to make way for the scenery outside via the floor-to-ceiling window. His Aunt Daphne really knew about interior design.

"_Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy._ To what do I owe the pleasure?" A cheerful yet sadistic voice behind him said. The blond chuckled and rolled his eyes, turning around to face the pearl-skinned girl with long raven hair and regal hazel eyes. She stood with perfect poise and pureblood regalia that every witch would envy. The perfect depiction of her mother's younger self. "Averie. Still the most beautiful, eh?" He breathed.

Averie Zabini smirked, "It definitely runs in the genes. I'd say you're looking very fine yourself, cousin."

They both laughed. "How's Beaubaxton?" He asked, "You're graduating next academic year - after us. Aren't you thrilled?" Averie gestured for Scorpius to come with her to the drawing room, where they'd be more at home.

"Yeah, I guess I am. Well, what about _you?"_ She smiled, plopping herself down to a sofa. He sat down beside her, sighing. "Oh, you know Hogwarts, we've got internship in April or May, I think. Barmy human beings, they were. Usually, I'd get so fed up and just sleep. I now get it why you didn't want to be _there."_

The girl snorted, "_As if_. You know how I refused to be watched by my exaggerating brother. I'd rather twist my tongue and speak in a language that wasn't thought to me rather than my actions patrolled by my excuse of a brother."

"Come on, Averie, don't give Isaac such a hard time. You know how he is with you." He winked, snickering. Averie rolled her eyes and asked him what he was doing here.

Scorpius feigned a hurt facade, "Can't your cousin just come here for _the purpose of seeing you_?" She shot him a murderous look. "Okay, okay. _Fine._ Bloody hell, are you menstruating? Can't even get a joke." He muttered. "So, I went here because I need your help because you're just so good about helping me and you're so into these things."

"What did you get yourself into?" She suddenly accused.

He scoffed, _"Please,_ cousin, if I were to commit murder, I'd never get caught. Besides, that's not it." The grey-eyed blond sighed, "I need a gift for my mother and I am absolutely clueless as to what to give."

Averie laughed, sounding like echoes of a wind chime. "You're just in time, Scorpius. I brought this charmed bracelet for my mother in Paris and there's another design of it but I absolutely can't have it for myself because I don't like it much." She grinned, "It's _perfect_ for Aunt Astoria."

"Averie, you are a blessing from the gods." Scorpius smiled back, "Thank you."

"No problem." She said, "But of course, you have to fill me in."

"Fill you in _with what?"_ He asked. Her eyes gleamed mischievously, "I heard from my brother that you're interested with someone. And not just any _someones,_ too._ A ginger halfblood._"

He rolled his eyes, snorting. "Why do you even believe that bloke? He's blurting out bloody rumors. I can't even explain how idiotic he is."

"Oh, come on, cousin. You sounded like a defensive prat." She wagged her brows, "Do you like her, though?"

He shook his head, "You should stop talking. And you can't make me admit because there's nothing to say."

"_You do_!" She squealed. He hated it when she squeals. It's annoying and utterly full of estrogen. The _most_ feminine of all habits. "God, Scorpius! You do, don't you? You're getting all red and sweaty right there. _Blushing!"_

And he knew that he wasn't blushing - because he only felt the blood rushing to his face right now. Well, that was unusual. "You don't see the almighty Scorpius Malfoy blushing everyday. That's a whole new level of emotions."

"I swear, you're just as annoying as Isaac." He retorted, "And I most definitely do not like her. She's weird and quiet but talkative at the same time. I don't like those kind of women."

"Lie all you want, cousin. It's yourself you're lying to." Averie gave him a knowing look and strut off the room to get the bracelet.

And Scorpius knew that he'd been lying, too. Because when he saw a simple hair clip with a pink rose on it, he immediately bought it - and would never admit.

"Where's Isaac, anyway?" He asked Averie as she handed him the bracelet. "Gonna meet him in the usual. Let's go?"

The young Malfoy offered his arm and they both walked outside - where the protective charms were ineffective - and apparated.

* * *

"Mate!" Isaac jumped from his stool and fist bumped Scorpius. Averie rolled her eyes at his brother. "Hey, brother. You _failed_ to notice me."

Scorpius chuckled then winced when she pinched his arm. He forgot that she was still clutching it. "Sod off, sis. You are such an old prude, sometimes." Isaac shook his head.

She muttered some curses before walking over to a booth, pulling her cousin with her. "Sis, can you stop being such a lint to our cousin? You're making other people stare."

And they _were _staring_,_ Scorpius noticed. "But I miss our cousin, brother. I haven't seen him since last August."

"Okay, fine. Do as you wish." The other Zabini grumbled. "Any way, are we going to get some drinks or what?"

"Good ol' butterbeer." The blond murmured.

"Same as Scorpius!" She exclaimed. "Why does she have to speak so loudly? It's as if we can't hear her." Isaac grunted, standing up to get the drinks.

The two of them engaged in a conversation about the Witch Weekly's issue on the most powerful witches, one of which was Hermione Weasley - that entered the door at the very moment.

"Yes - I mean, I really think that, since she's too smart for her own good, the Ministry's a waste of time and -" Averie trailed off, looking at the witch. "Isn't that her? Hermione Weasley?"

Scorpius' eyes darted around to confirm. "Yes, that _is_ indeed her."

Isaac came back to the booth, three butterbeers in hand. "Hey, what are you lot talking about?"

Averie motioned her head to the side. "We're talking about Hermione Weasley's chosen career."

"Oh. Can't you get more boring, huh, sis?" Her brother muttered. And just as Scorpius was to speak, another girl entered the place, shivering from the cold outside. She removed her knitted hat and sat on a chair in a table for four.

His heart suddenly increased its pace, making him put a hand on his chest. He looked down, his skin getting paler - if ever it was even possible. He remembered their last conversation in the train, when, _coincidentally,_ both of them got out of their compartments and _accidentally_ met half way.

_"Did you wait?" He whispered, not meeting her eyes._

_She smiled a little, nodding. "Yes, I did."_

Well.

_Rose Weasley._

Scorpius swallowed hard, looking down. Averie noticed how his body immediately tensed, giving him a concerned look while leaving their sibling spat. "Are you alright, Scorpius?"

He blinked twice, taking his eyes off of Rose. "I'm fine. But, may I be excused for a moment? I just have to go to the loo."

Both of the Zabinis nodded, and conversed about the Quidditch League. Scorpius quickly strode to the back door, hopefully unnoticed. He opened the door and made his way out, just to clear his head, asking himself why he felt like avoiding her was the best. Would it solve anything or take back what he did?

He sighed. _No, it won't._

So he did what normal people would do. He went inside and ignored her for the rest of forever - _until._

"Oh, Scorpius Malfoy?" Hermione Weasley beamed, seeing him as he brushed past her. She was holding two glasses of butterbeer on the way to their table. He could feel Rose's eyes on him and her mother conversing. "You're looking more like your father every time I see you."

Scorpius smiled awkwardly, offering his help with the beverage. "Yes, that's what I keep hearing, too. Hey, can I help you with that, though?"

She shook her head, "No, I'm good. Do you want to sit with us or do you have company? Rose and I are sitted over there." She nodded her head to their area. And finally, he had no choice but to look at her looking at him.

"Oh, no, Mrs. Weasley - my cousins are here with me. I just went to the loo." He answered.

"But isn't the loo on the other side?"

"Yeah, I - _well,"_ he stammered, "there's a new one on this side." The blond lied. He swore, Rose and her mother ask too many questions for their own good.

"Oh. Well, why don't you greet Rose a little hello?" She said. They walked towards the table - and because of his politeness, he didn't refuse to walk her to their table and her request, even if it might lead to some very awkward situations.

They reached the table, and Scorpius glanced at Rose. Hermione laid the drinks on their table, excusing herself to get the tray of food from the counter. The ginger nodded at him and quietly spoke, "Malfoy."

He smiled a little, "Weasley. A surprise to see you here."

"As I am." She said. A moment of awkward silence wrapped around the two, both looking at their hands. He sighed and quiety said, "I should be going back to my booth. Tell your mother that I'll be there."

"Okay." Rose murmured, observing him.

He met her blue eyes and scratched his head, "So, I'll see you in the ball?" She nodded. "Yeah, okay. Bye." He turned around and walked over to their booth, both of his cousin - who witnessed the whole encounter - grinning mischievously.

"So _that's her_?" Averie asked, eyes gleaming heavily with enthusiasm. Isaac nodded, having just as much as her attentiveness.

"What do you mean 'that's her?'" Scorpius innocently asked.

She snorted, "Oh, get off it, Malfoy. You know what I'm talking about. Besides, she's pretty. _Plain_, but pretty. Now, tell us _more."_

* * *

"I heard from Averie that you're seeing this... _girl."_ Narcissa Malfoy said as Scorpius entered the drawing room.

_That quick? I haven't even stepped in yet._ He thought, grunting. "No, grandmother. Please don't pay attention to Averie and Isaac. They are quite loose."

She chuckled, "Oh, you know that it's alright for me to see you get serious with girls. I thought you how to treat them, so you ought to prove that you've learned from my lessons any time soon."

"Thanks, grandmother. But really, I'd be telling you that if ever I have a girlfriend. But sensing that I'll be going by myself in the ball, then, no - I do _not_ have one." He replied, sitting beside his grandmother on the velvet sofa. Narcissa rolled her eyes and ruffled his blond hair. "You sounded just like your father."

"Yes, I've done such a great job of being him, haven't I?" Scorpius muttered, sarcasm evident in his voice. She shook her head, her lips pressing to form a tight smile, "You know that's _not so_ bad. Your father's a handsome lad, and a good man, too. He reciprocated the bad things that he'd done as soon as he got out of his state. You know that."

"Yes, grandmother. _I_ know." And he did.

* * *

**REVIEW PLEASE!**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: **Say 'hello' to chapter six! And guys, please review? I'm getting less motivated :(

This is one of the most important chapters. And unfortunately, it's unedited. I'm just itching to get this out here (I typed everything from my phone because my Microsoft Office is still being a whiny bitch) - so enjoy!

And I loved writing this chapter because it was the first time that I actually wrote something like this. Yes, you should read it so you'd know what I did. It was kind of hard and I think it sounded better in my head (because it played like a movie there, you know). Forgive me and tell me what you think by **R-E-V-I-E-W-I-N-G.**

**Disclaimer: **I own just about this plot and Malfoy. No, okay. Just this plot. JKR owns e-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g. Except this plot.

* * *

**_As the Rain Falls_**

**_Chapter 6:_**

"Scorpius," Draco Malfoy looked at his son as if looking in his own reflection, both of them clad in a fancy black dress robe that brought out their silver tinted eyes. "I trust that you're going to behave like an _adult_ tonight."

It was the twenty-fourth of December, the day of the Ministry Ball. Scorpius had given his gifts to his grandmother and mother, both thankful and happy with them. Usually, he'd give the gifts on midnight, but it only seemed appropriate to give it now because the event might've taken longer to finish.

"Yes, father." He said indifferently. Since the holidays started, Scorpius had avoided their father-and-son interactions, only seeing each other when it was time for meals. Well, it wasn't impossible, considering the vast space of the manor. Basically, he'd just hide away in the garden with his broom because his father hates plants.

"I swear, those women take too long to get ready." Draco grumbled, rolling his eyes. "We're going to be late. Isn't it common knowledge to prepare early if you know you'd take too long to doll up?"

His mother appeared in the doorway, looking breathtakingly beautiful - and proven when her husband suddenly paused talking to his son. As if the silence was at all necessary to offer to the beauty in front of them. Following her was Narcissa, looking just as amazing, getting the color of her daughter-in-law's beige dress robe, just a shade darker.

And if they could be photographed right now, no doubt that they'd be published on a magazine or even an advertisement in Madam Malkin's.

"You look dashing, mother." Both Scorpius and his father said. The two women laughed and walked towards the apparition point. He noticed that his mother was wearing the bracelet that he gave. Hopefully his Aunt Daphne was wearing hers as well.

His parents held hands together, while he offered his arm to his grandmother. On the same time, the Malfoy family apparated.

* * *

It was as if they were in a scene from _Titanic,_ with everyone suited up formally. The room was lighted up with the most ostentatious lights, themed with Christmas' version of gold, silver and red. Garlands were spread along the arches, with white and red poinsettias and uncharmed mistletoes. Dragonflies were enchanted to light up the dim ceiling. An orchestra played on a circular conjured stage in the middle of the Atrium, but no one's paying attention to them.

Everyone at the Ministry Ball only came to socialize - maybe even get some connections or choose their children's betrothed spouses.

But the whole setting was perfect. It was fairy tale like, only missing the fairy godmother and the glass slipper. To Scorpius, it was the perfect date.

However, he stayed by the bar, where the bored men usually went. He was _included_ in it.

And the pathetic thing was... he was still searching for a girl with blue eyes and red hair in the mass of elegant robes, wondering what she could be wearing and how beautiful she'd look tonight.

The blond sighed, shaking his head and wondering how he got in this state. And why - _oh why_ - would his parents leave him be when, in fact, they should be introducing him to the other elites. He's the future Malfoy heir and he's so damn withering in his seat.

Even Isaac was getting introduced by his father all over the lot.

"A glass of firewhiskey, please." He heard a familiar voice droned on. Scorpius whipped around and saw Albus Potter leaning on the bar, sitting on a stool two seats away from him.

"Well, if it isn't Albus bloody Potter." Scorpius sneered, sipping his own glass.

Albus threw him a disgusted look, rolling his eyes. "Sod off, Malfoy." The bartender gave him his firewhiskey and he stayed silent, minding his own business. Scorpius guessed that he was having a bad day, as he was, and for once, didn't push it.

A loud coughing made the chatters disappear, all of the guests turning to face the stage in the middle.

Minister Kingsley Shacklebolt smiled at the crowd, looking quite proud that his sonorous charm worked to get their attention. "Good evening, wizards and witches."

"Oh, this is bollocks." Scorpius muttered.

"Tonight, I thank all of you who attended this year's annual Ministry Ball - which, of course, the proceeds will go to charity." Kingsley continued. " It is my pride and honour to welcome you in this event. Have a happy Christmas and let the dancing begins!" He raised a bottle of champagne and poured its contents into a tower made of glass.

The orchestra began playing again with the snap of the Minister's fingers. The crowd suddenly made space for a dance floor, and about three couples stepped up to start waltzing. Scorpius ordered another one of his scotch from the bartender, watching at Dominique Weasley dancing with the Finnigan kid. He still thought about what she'd said to him back in the halls near the men's loo, and wondering if something might happen tonight.

He sighed, reminding himself to stay away from the Potter-Weasley clan.

"Potter," The young Malfoy started, not sparing the jet black-haired lad a glance. He also supposed that it wasn't going to reply, so he continued. "Where's Weasley?"

At this, Albus was so shocked from his question that he almost choked in his drink. Scorpius grinned smugly. "Got you."

He knew that the mention of his cousin - from him - took every ounce of protectiveness to bubble around the lad's mind. It was ridiculous how he acted like a bloody body guard to Rose - but to speak of the truth, he _actually_ really wanted to know where she was.

"What the bloody fuck are you playing at, Malfoy?" Albus said after gaining his former steady glare. Malfoy shrugged and returned to sipping his drink. He ignored the prat almost immediately as he payed attention to him.

They went back to ignoring each other after Albus grumbled something with the lines of "fucking git."

Scorpius once again scanned the crowd and finally saw the girl with red hair in tamed curls and blue eyes that sparkled like the ocean, entering the Atrium. It was obvious that she was late and had indeed because she dressed up pretty well, clad in an off-white dress that complimented her figure amazingly. Her mother followed after her, just as beautiful.

He unknowingly stood up from his stool and walked over to an empty round high table to get a closer look. She did look stunning, as he saw young bachelors - such as himself - turning around to stop and stare. He _hated_ it. He _hated_ how every other person saw her at school with not much of her old uniforms and massive Weasley jumper on the weekends and how gorgeous she looked now. He _hated_ how he couldn't step up like that James Orsenkov from Ravenclaw and ask her for a dance - even though she declined. He _hated_ it, because he couldn't do anything but lean in a pity little table and drown himself with his scotch.

Oh, how the odds have _turned_ for Scorpius Malfoy.

He was baffled, distraught and hopeless. And he didn't know if it was good that he's finally having _real human feelings_ for a lady, or if it was bad because it was Rose Weasley.

The lad turned away from the view and stared at his drink. He ought to get more.

* * *

It was about eleven in the evening, and once again, Scorpius watched Rose for the second hour of the night.

In some instances, she met his eyes with a nod of greeting. He quickly broke it off, though - as if he just happened to land his gaze on her; very accidentally.

The Ministry must have did something to the scotch - or any of the liquor - because Scorpius can't feel any of the effect of it in his system even after his tenth glass. Still, it was as if he gained a little confidence. And once Rose was left to find some acquaintance from all the people her parents keep introducing her to, he inhaled a massive amount of oxygen and handed a passing schoolmate his empty glass.

He paced toward her with a head held high and his usual posture. He was feeling as if he can do anything - and it included talking to her after their awkward encounters recently.

She was sitting in one of the stools in the bar, near the one that he had occupied just a couple of hours ago. Potter was nowhere insight; probably off shagging somewhere in the loo. He reminded himself to check after.

"Hi." Scorpius breathed, giving her a slight smile. Rose's eyes widened a little, surprised that he approached her. "Hello, Malfoy."

Her mood dropped a little, though. Maybe it was because she thought he was mad at him, he reckoned.

"So... did you come with somebody tonight?" He asked, sitting on a stool beside her. She shook her head, looking down. "Hey, don't worry. It's not like I'm gonna bite you or anything."

Rose chuckled, looking at him. "Malfoy, if - by _any_ chance - you're talking to me because you feel guilty about the events before, _don't."_

He was baffled. "No, no - I didn't mean it that way, but I do want to apologize, though." The blond smiled sympathetically, "Sorry for waiting. I usually don't let girls wait. My grandmother would chop my head off." And he meant it. His _apology._ Because he rarely apologize; and when he does, he's sincere about it.

"I suppose you can make it up to me." Her blue eyes twinkled with amusement. "We can see the snow fall on the first night back."

Scorpius nodded, "Deal."

They both lapsed into a comfortable silence, simply watching the dancing figures. He glanced at Rose, a little smile tugging the corners of her strawberry colored lips. It was really a sight to watch. Just him, up close with her.

And it did happen to make him think that he now know what it was that was so appealing about Rose Weasley. It was because the whole universe had this girl in front of their very wary eyes, but no one's paying attention to her.

But he _did._ He _did_ look at her. And it had made all the differences. Because he would watch her help the house elves with the dishes and he would gladly join her albeit the new stooped low; because hearing her talk about her insights was entirely something new and enlightening; because watching her now, laughing at her parents waltzing, was one of the best feelings in the world.

That was why, right now, Scorpius Malfoy admitted to himself that he fancied Rose Weasley _more_ than he could ever imagined.

He was more than sure that he'd been so caught up with his thoughts when she turned to him, her beam slightly dangling from her lips. The orchestra played a more upbeat tune, blues, jazz, and pop combined. "I love this song. Would you like to dance, Malfoy?"

Blinking, he shook his head no. "I have two left feet." He was lying of course. He was a skilled Quidditch player and a _hell_ of a good dancer. His mother and grandmother required him of this skill.

However, it might cause some unintended action between her easily swayed father and him. It was a rule he'd heard one time in Charms from Dominique Weasley that Rose ought to avoid him.

Nevertheless, if he's the one to be asked - family feuds aside - he would be honoured and gladly accept the invitation.

There was a sudden gleam of disappointment in her eyes, but it immediately disappeared as soon as it was there. The ginger smiled, "Oh, that's alright. But would you mind if I leave you here, though. Albus owed me a dance." _Maybe that's why the git's so mad. _He thought.

Half-heartedly, he nodded and watched her as she neared his nemesis, going together in the dance floor. He watched them, sulking with yet another glass of scotch in his hand. Because of the change in song, more of the 'younger' lot came down the floor to dance. Some of them even imitated the dancers from the 40's, like those American couples - the wives with their soldier husbands - in World War II. It was ridiculous how they managed to dance that well, considering their tailored clothing.

Even his parents were dancing, and they looked so damn happy.

Narcissa sat down on a stool beside her grandson, quite tired. She have a glow in her face that could only mean one thing - she's tipsy. It was strange how he concluded earlier that the beverages were alcohol-free. Apparently he was wrong. Or it might be that his grandmother was a light drinker. "Are you alright, grandmother?" He asked, putting a hand over her slim fingers.

"I'm good, Scorpius." She then smiled the warming smile that only mothers could conjure. "I saw you talking to that Weasley girl. So I guess Averie and Isaac were indeed correct?"

He chuckled, shaking his head and wondering where Isaac might have been when he'd seen him just a few hours ago, a lady friend in his hand. "Don't listen to the prat, you know how he is."

"But you look good together," she insisted, "Is she a pureblood?"

The blond lad shook his head, "Halfblood."

"Oh, right!" His grandmother gently tapped her forehead, as if to denote her forgetfulness. "She's the kid of that nice woman. Granger-Weasley. Oh, how I forgot her name. It was a pity, I always like that woman despite her muggle heritage."

_"Hermione,_ grandmother." He grumbled. He knew that his grandmother had been a little fond of the lady since his father and the trio started communicating due to some cases. She's the only one who talked properly to her son and who even went out of her way once to buy Narcissa a vase she'd stumbled upon on while on a family vacation in Japan.

"They used to come in the manor a lot when you were young, you know." Narcissa grinned. "You ought to play in the garden with their daughter. The Potter kid always hated you though. I think he was a bit jealous because you stole his best friend from him."

Scorpius rolled his eyes, not remembering the memory but choosing not to bother bringing it up. "Grandmother, _please,_ Potter is _always_ jealous."

"Whatever you say, young man. Whatever you say."

The song ended. The young Malfoy saw Rose making her way back next to him as Potter danced off with his mother. Narcissa shot him a look that basically meant a teasing, but he shrugged it off. "You should have danced there. It was so much fun -" Rose trailed off, seeing his regal grandmother on his other side. "Good evening, Madame Malfoy. Nice to see you again."

Narcissa smiled, "Well, a pleasure too, Miss... _Weasley_ - am I correct?" When Rose nodded, she chuckled. "I'm really getting old. I tend to forget names easily. Do forgive me."

"Of course." The young lady said, grinning back.

"Why, don't you look good in your dress! Anyway, I'd leave you two alone. Andromeda promised me a new flower seed for my garden." Narcissa gave the two a knowing look and gracefully - though influenced with alcohol - made her way to her sister on the other side of the room.

Again, the two were left alone. Scorpius glanced down at his watch. It's almost midnight. He fumbled in his coat pocket a hair clip and handed it to her, "Happy Christmas, Weasley." And that was his first and last time of being a romantic fool _without_ any motives.

She looked at the gift, resting on the palm of her hand. Quickly, Rose slid it to her hair, beaming widely. "Thank you, Malfoy. It is really beautiful."

Just then, out of nowhere, a blinding flash that barely missed Scorpius left arm came. Shocked, he glanced at his left and saw a tear in his coat from the hex. If it were not for the light, no one would stop. Apparently most of the guests were still preoccupied with dancing.

Scorpius and Rose shared a look, and ducked when another one came about. He withdrew his wand, grabbing her. More people were noticing the commotion at this point, but they were frozen in their place. The blond cannot make out the face of the attacker - partly because he was too far away and partly because the anonymous idiot kept throwing him hexes and his reflex told him to counterattack more than to recognize.

_"Stupefy!"_

_"Protego!"_

_"Expelliarmus!"_ He ducked at that one. _"Incendio!"_ A burst of flame jutted out from Malfoy's wand, lighting up a massive banner when the anonymous attacker expertly ducked his spell. Though, it was enough to get them behind the bar.

"Shit." He muttered, putting a hand over Rose's mouth. She was very much startled and afraid, more so because of the bleeding bartender in her back. Scorpius muttered a hex that hit Orsenkov's back. He was furious as to why no one had the right mind to stop the attacker when he was very well aware that the whole Atrium was well equipped with Aurors and Ministry guards - that was, until, he stood up to have a quick scan of the area when a very short ceasefire occurred.

Basically, most of the Aurors were stunned, lying helplessly on the ground. Even the Minister was unconscious, lying beside his father's hopefully breathing body, and Harry Potter too. Definitely, this was an attack no one was prepared for.

About half of the guests were hiding under the tables - and so must've the attacker. It suddenly became quiet in the hall, even though it was still swarming with people - unconscious or not.

He glanced back at the girl that was clutching his hand very tightly. Had this been another situation, he'd probably have his heart gnawing its way out of his chest and red from embarrassment.

But, his heart was gnawing its way out of his chest, albeit not the way it should've been. Also, his face was red from a mixture of fear and anger, not from embarrassment.

"Stay here, Weasley." The blond murmured, seeing the girl with tears in her eyes. She shook her head, "No, please, _don't_ leave me!"

He grabbed her shoulders and shook her, "Weasley! Stop crying! _Just_ - look at me in the eyes." He frantically demanded as she obliged. "Weasley, don't leave this place. Listen to me. I'm gonna walk out of there and if ever the idiot revealed himself, stun him. You heard me?"

She nodded, squeezing his hand. "Yes. But don't you want to let the Aurors wake up before you go out there?"

"Look, it seemed as if they might be dead. I don't exactly know what was happening, either." He honestly confessed. "Just stay here and do as I've instructed. Got it?"

"Yes. Be careful, though."

"I will. It was _us_ they obviously want." He smiled reassuringly, even though he didn't know why random people could be attacking them. "In three?"

"One." Both of them chorused. "Two." Scorpius pulled away his hand and breathed in. _"Three!"_

The young Malfoy leaped over the bar and ran toward the middle of the area as he blocked another curse hurling his way. "Come out!" More curses were aimed at him. It was from the table to the left. Another was fired from his right and a shielding charm that spared him from a stunning spell broke off.

_Good._ He muttered to himself. _There's two of them._

He pointed his wand to where he saw the attacker from his left side, _"Incendio!"_ A table burst into flames, but there was no one.

Quickly conjuring a shielding charm again, Scorpius fired about three hexes each to his right and left and countered twice as much from each. It was then until he heard a furious tapping of heels in the marble floor and saw Rose Weasley running to him.

He was enraged and at loss as to what to do.

She was about halfway to him when a green light was fired to her direction. "Rose!" He shouted, making the red haired girl slow her tracks. His eyes widened, and as if the time stopped.

He ran toward her, but it was too late. A body in front of her was hit with the curse, stumbling down the marble floor. It wasn't Rose.

_"No!"_

* * *

_Hermione Weasley laughed at the joke, "Yes, he was rather dense, my husband. You know how he is - always putting in food as long as there's still space in his mouth." She looked at the clock and back, "But what I liked about him was the balance he gave me. I would drive myself over the edge and he'd smoothen me. Suddenly, everything's alright again._

_"My world's balanced. Yin and yang." _

* * *

**_REVIEWS WOULD BE APPRECIATED!_**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: **Chapter seven, guys! Anyway, I was thinking about making this time travel fic about Dramione (my favorite otp evah), but I guess I was feeling guilty to leave this for a while. What do you think? And by the way, I think I'd stop the italics (paragraph stuff) for a few next chapters, the last bit ruined the impact of the moment for me, so meh. They were made to have a look as to what happened to the_ pre-nextgeneration_ characters.

Oh, and I still don't have any good news about my MS office. Sad, sad pup.

Note that this is kind of a short chapter. I'm sorry; but fast update, yeah?

**Disclaimer: **I own what I own~

* * *

_**As the Rain Falls**_

_**Chapter 7:**_

Astoria Malfoy fell on the marble floors of the Ministry Atrium as soon as she shoved Rose Weasley out of the way. A killing curse had hit her square in the chest, eyes still wide from the surprise.

_"No!"_ Scorpius Malfoy screamed as he saw his mother's dead body falling on the ground. He quickly ran over to the place, ignoring a spell that wounded his thigh. Rose hurriedly fumbled over the his mother, trying to revive the body.

And if it was the most cliche'd moment ever, a young auror came out from behind a table and stunned the attackers as he saw them about to aim at the pair. But all in all, it was still _too_ late. Someone had already died.

_"Mother!"_ The blond shouted, tears falling from his eyes. "Mother, _please!"_ His vision was blurry, making him wipe his eyes. "Please breathe! Someone call a healer; _anyone! Somebody,_ please!"

Rose sat beside him, Astoria's head on her lap. He grabbed his mother's body from the girl and held her. _"Mother!"_

Everyone that was still conscious stood up from behind the table, the coward auror holding both of the suspects. They all watched as a boy cradled her dead mother, helpless.

Someone from the audience had probably awoken the stunned aurors with their spells, but it wouldn't do anything anyway.

_"Astoria!"_ Draco Malfoy shouted, seeing the scene in front of his very eyes. His wife and son. Or his _dead_ wife and son.

He ran toward the two, snatching his wife from the boy. "Astoria! Astoria! Wake up, Astoria!" It was as if he can't believe it.

Scorpius watched his father fell to the ground, his wife in his arms, crying while holding her close. If it was not them, he would've thought it was pathetic. "Mother..."

He saw his father closed her mother's eyelids and kissed her forehead, grieving and repeatedly whispering her name.

The lad glanced back at Rose, still kneeling on the floor and covering her face. He wanted to hate her the best that he could, and probably _will_ later, if he's sane enough to believe that his mother had died. But now, he wanted to seek _comfort_ - he wanted her to tell him that it was just a bad dream, that his mother was merely stunned and not killed. But he turned away, forcing herself that she looked pathetic.

His mother had saved her. Although he'd have done the same, it wasn't really good enough. It was different when he'd be the one to die than have someone he loved died. And to his defense, he would have died for Albus Potter even, so no matter who, it just meant that he knew he'd done anything to prevent a death, much like her mother have - not choosing whoever it was.

His grandmother, Narcissa, shakily stopped him, wrapping her arms around her grandson. "Let them be for a while, Scorpius."

* * *

It was a day that might've really excited Scorpius a bit. The snow wasn't as furious as it was in the other days, it was just right. He's not wearing three different heat insulators in his body, and his hair was washed perfectly. Also, the birds sang in front of the window in the morning, and he was pretty sure that the house elves prepared him a scrumptious breakfast in bed.

But though he's wearing two layers of clothing, he was still cold. His hair might have been washed gloriously, but it was uncombed. He shut the curtains close when he heard the first note that the birds sung. His breakfast in bed happened to be breakfast on the floor when he purposely threw it away.

Today was his mother's funeral. You could say that he was sad; but Scorpius was very much far from that.

He couldn't actually explain it to himself, either. He was sad, and he was more than sad, and then, he felt as though he doesn't feel anything at all. His sadness seemed to be a companion, a normalcy in the past couple of days.

And so here he was, dressed in a black suit, sitting in a small chapel near a cemetery, staring ahead as his Aunt Daphne grumbled throughout her eulogy. His father was beside him, eyes too tired to actually release tears.

Both of _them_ - _they_ were_ tired_.

The young Malfoy scanned the area, looking for a ginger girl with blue eyes. He thought she'd be here to attend the last day of her savior's service, but like the past couple of days, she was nowhere near the chapel. Even her bloody cousins bothered showing up - but _her?_ No show.

He was so bloody enraged with this. It was as if his heart had broken a _little_ more.

Narcissa held his hand and squeezed it. It was only the three of them now. She told Scorpius that it was his turn to speak up. He didn't want to, hence he told her - though she insisted that he must, because his mother would very much love to. He argued that his father didn't speak. She had said, "He's already let her know."

Ergo, he walked over the podium and sighed. "The very last time my mother told me _'Forgive me, son. I'll get better next time.'_ was just a week before... this, when she was stitching a loose button on my favorite button up. She loved doing those things... taking care of us even though she can barely burn the kitchen whenever she cooks." Most of the listeners chuckled on this.

"But what I'm going to miss about my mother is her determination to never stopped trying." He looked down. "To tell you the truth, she had said the _'Forgive me'_ line for about a hundred times, but she'll _never_ quit. It's as if she wouldn't know if tomorrow would bring her good or maybe fail her again, but it was all she had. To keep trying. _Hope,_ someone had told me, is the reason we keep looking forward." The blond remembered the moment in the kitchens; Rose was asking him about his fears and he only came up with one.

_"So why are we still looking forward to it when we never really know what we're looking forward to?"_

_"Isn't it obvious? Hope."_

He was saddened by the fact that she was not here to hear him speak. He would've wanted to. Because his mother gave her life for her, and that's the least bit she could return.

"And my mother gave another person that hope when she's lost hers." He glanced at Hermione and Ron Weasley as an acknowledgement. "It's very hard to accept -" his voice cracked a little, "- that I can no longer see when she tried to stitch up my buttons_ for the next time._"

* * *

"Malfoy." Albus Potter murmured, standing behind him.

Scorpius turned away from the granite grave stone and faced the source of the voice. "What do you want?" He hissed.

The other lad looked down, "I wanted to say -"

_"Sorry?"_ He said, all the tears from the event still stinging his eyes. Even after two hours of burying his mother, he never left the lot. And he'd thought that they'd leave him alone. He was fed up with the condolences and continuous questions of how he was coping with it. It was pathetic._ He was pathetic._ "Like _that_ would bring my mother back."

"Look, Malfoy - I'm trying to be patient and humble here." Albus calmly replied, "And I understand what your going through. I'm sorry for my cousin's behalf -"

"Don't you dare tell me she purposely avoided the funeral." Scorpius snapped, glaring at the lad with bitter and wrathful resentment. "What, after my mother had died, she's going to be saying _sorry?_ Well, _where is she_?"

The raven haired boy shook his head. "We _honestly_ don't know."

"Then that's it, isn't it? My family had to suffer and she goes into her _little, happy_ vacation -"

"That's _enough,_ Malfoy." Potter cut him off, staring passively at him. "I know my cousin was a hell lot of a coward when she didn't attend the service, but you don't have the right to say that she isn't _affected_ by all of this -"

"And what does that say to me? My mother died because of her." The blond closed his fist tightly. "Isn't it a decency to show up to the deathbed of the person who saved your life?"

"But _she didn't ask_ for it, Malfoy, did she?" Potter taunted. And that was all it took Scorpius to punch the bloody git hard on his face, falling to the ground. "Respect my mother, Potter!" He shouted, grabbing his collar and harshly raising the boy to face him and put a wand on his throat. "You don't have the right to tell her that, understand? Or would you want your pretty little face to be used as a decoration on the walls of my manor?"

"It feels good," Albus managed to let out albeit being choked from his collar, "doesn't it, Malfoy? It feels so fucking good to let it all out now, am I right? Now what're _you_ going to do?" The young Potter let out a sadistic laugh, "Kill me? So my family and yours are finally even? _Please,_ Malfoy, you wouldn't want to do that, _don't_ you."

"Why the hell _not,_ Potter?" Malfoy only tightened the grip on his collar. "Well, wouldn't it feel satisfying to have your filthy little blood staining the snow?"

Albus smirked, "Like _that_ would bring your _mother_ back." He echoed.

The blond threw another punch, sending the other boy on the snowy grass again. His lips started bleeding, in which Malfoy smirked at. "It _does_ feel good, Potter. Let's do it again." He grabbed the fallen from the ground and punched him - _twice. Thrice. _And for the _fourth time._

"Are you fucking done, Malfoy?" Albus muttered, "Because if you are, I'd like to discuss some matters with you."

* * *

The criminals were examined and found out that they were under the_ Imperius Curse_ the whole time in the Atrium. Apparently, one of the lot was working in the Ministry as an Unspeakable and one - the person who conjured the killing curse - had a good paying job in Gringotts. _Had._

Draco Malfoy insisted that they be locked up in Azkaban until the real criminals were caught. He wanted justice, and he will get them. And for everyone's knowledge, he wouldn't let the pair of criminals get away with it no matter what - even if the suspect was caught. He didn't care. He wanted them to rot in hell.

Scorpius, on the other hand, haven't talked to anyone since that day with Albus Potter. Even with his grandmother, he would plainly shake his head and look away. _A pity._ He would soon be going back to Hogwarts.

The blond lad stood in his mirror, the upper half of his body naked. He traced a scar that runs on his chest down until it reaches his pelvis. It was an ugly scar, but somehow, women find it attractive _and_ mysterious.

The sad thing about it was he didn't know when he got it or what was the reason behind. But he knew for sure that it happened when he was young - and now he also knew that it concerned the recent event that occurred in his family.

For one thing, Dominique Weasley was right about the ball; that something was going on and the thing about that Clementine Waterspock. He'd asked his father if he knew someone from there and _said he didn't._

Scorpius had three suspects, of course. He knew for sure that the person who casted the_ Imperius Curse_ to the fugitives was someone he knew; he's just unsure. But for the three, there were two people that he was certain he didn't see when the commotion in the Atrium happened.

First, Albus Potter, who was _'seen'_ going to the loo with a slag; and Isaac Zabini, who was also _'seen'_ doing the same. His third suspect was the person who sent the 'Clementine Waterspock' letter - it was still anonymous.

But he would stop there for now; _he needed to talk to Rose Weasley._

* * *

**PLEASE R-E-V-I-E-W!**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: **Hi! I hope fast updates would give me reviews :)

**Disclaimer: **Not JKR.

* * *

_**As the Rain Falls**_

_**Chapter 8:**_

Scorpius Malfoy was standing in front of the masters bedroom of the manor, choosing whether not to go in or to, _well,_ go _in._

His father have been working late hours and didn't even bother going home, much to his grandmother's chagrin. He once heard them arguing in the kitchens late at night when he was to get a cup of tea.

_"Draco, don't be like this." _Narcissa had said, almost pleading.

Her son glared at her, as if it was going to burn holes in the back of her head._ "Like what, mother?"_

She stared back with the same intensity. It was Scorpius' guess that he's the only one who have yet to learn how to glare the _Malfoy_ way._ "Like that! Draco, you still have a son. You go home not just because of your wife, or your liquors, but your whole family!"_

_"I know very well that I still have a son, mother!" _Draco snapped - but his mother didn't flinch even a little._ "That is why I'm obsessed in finding out who did this. It's for the both of us."_

_"What, and you think you'll be free when you did?"_ She asked,_ "Do you think you can bring Astoria back?"_

_"Then what do you suggest,_ mother?_ That we live our lives forgiving that excuse of a person? What if you're next? Or what if_ he's_ next? Have you_ ever_ thought of that?" _He shook his head, facing away._ "I can't afford to lose any one of you."_

Narcissa sighed, nearing her son and putting a hand on his shoulder._ "Son, I don't want Scorpius to lose a father too._"

At that, Scorpius turned away and ran to his room.

But today, he's standing in front of his parents' room, knowing full well that it's empty from human occupation. He shook his head and glanced at both sides of the corridor. It's as soulless as the graves in the cemetery.

The blond sighed, turning the knob.

He didn't know what to expect inside the room - maybe full of wrecked plates and dirty clothes? Or blood, perhaps? Maybe even books and papers, torn and crumpled. But it was weird because it's different from that.

The massive bed in the middle was made, but it was dusty. As if someone didn't lay on it for weeks. The furniture were as dusty, apart from the closet and the bathroom. His mother's things were still there, along with his father's.

Scorpius didn't know why he went here; maybe, a reason he told himself, he wanted to have a remembrance from his mother to go with in his departure to Hogwarts tomorrow - as small as a book or as beautiful as a photograph.

He suddenly felt like suffocating, and knew why his father spent his nights in the guest rooms. The room smelled like the perfume of his mother. It was scary because it's as if his mother will come out of the loo in about thirty seconds.

But she_ didn't_ - much to his dismay. His mother had died, and she was no longer here.

The lad scratched the back of his head and went over to the closet. He knew there was a picture of him there with his mother, and he wanted to have it.

Scorpius opened a drawer on the left side, near his mother's jewelry box. When he was about nine, he saw there was a black velvet locked case with his name embroidered on it in silver settled beside the box. He remembered, and knew that something ought to be there.

Five seconds later, he found it. It was on the third drawer in her mother's vanity table. He blew out the dust on it and set it down the wooden surface. "Alohomora." The lock clicked open. He raised the lid and scanned the contents inside.

There was a picture of him with his mother, when he was about five, flying on a small broomstick. Another was one with Potter, playing on his miniature Quidditch pitch. Then there was a worn out article from the prophet, barely unreadable. It was about an attack, and they had been there. He didn't read it, though. He was too busy inspecting a vial enclosing a silvery substance, looking very much a cloud-like liquid or gas. His name was on it, so it must've been his.

He pocketed the glass bottle and stared at the thick stack of picture. There was him with Rose, laughing by his old tree house - which he couldn't even remember that he had one. There were about five with Isaac and Averie, a few more when he was young. And one picture, when he was about six, where he was with his mother.

Scorpius snatched the image and closed the case, the closet, and the door.

* * *

At five o'clock in the afternoon, Scorpius' shoes landed on the grassy grounds of the cemetery. He walked over to his mother's grave and caught something different about it.

There was a white rose on the lápida, a pink silk ribbon tied on its stem bearing a small card. Without even glancing at the message on the card, he _knew_ who it was from.

"I'm so sorry." The note had said.

He felt his skin tingle from where the card touched him. He was annoyed, disappointed, and angry. Why couldn't this person just talk to him face to face? _What,_ was he some kind of a monster now? Would he go around eating people who spoke about his mother? No, Scorpius would _not. _It was repulsing and he was alright with it. It was a matter. The only thing that he didn't want was for it to be a disrespectful topic. Because then, _yes,_ he would _not_ eat, but he'd torture them until they beg for mercy - then, he'd throw them in Romania to be eaten by _dragons._ That's what he'd do.

But giving roses was never enough for him. It was as if the giver was insulting him. Angrily, he crumpled the paper in his hand and stomped on the rose. He laid a wreath of yellow tulips on the ground, which he had specifically ordered from Amsterdam.

The blond glanced around, fully well aware that Rose Weasley has just left the place.

* * *

Isaac Zabini stepped out of the Hogwarts' Express with Scorpius uncharacteristically trailing behind. The blond was too busy thinking about Rose and the _rose _ that she had left - which was actually quite disrespectful and obvious. For God's sake, her name's _Rose; _if she had wanted to hide her identity, it would be best if she'd bought a daisy or a chrysanthemum or a gumamela. But _no_, it had to be a rose.

They waited for their Thestrals, with Isaac talking Quidditch beside him - that he easily zoned out of. He was greeted with condolences from the people who passed by him, nodding at them reluctantly.

It was actually different if one was saying the sorrowful words that one meant but didn't actually cared about who died and if one were the one receiving the empty words. It's as if finding the end of the rainbow, and then actually _did _find it. Like, those people feel safe as hell because they haven't felt it, unlike who'd been able to find it, along with people who had. Then those people were the really the only ones who understood.

In literary and media context, it's as if those people who watched an adapted muggle film knew that it was good, but those who have read the books knew how it felt.

And here was Scorpius, knowing full well how it felt to lose that someone and be drowned in sad glances everywhere.

When their Thestral - which the young Malfoy could now see - arrived, Isaac nudged him and asked if he was alright. "Yes, mate. Let's go." He caught something red at the corner of his eye but he shook it off. He needed his answer, and then he'd avoid her like she's some kind of a viral disease.

* * *

That night, Scorpius went in his usual spot in the Astronomy Tower, clutching himself. In his hand was the picture of him and his mother, smiling as she ran around with him in the garden. He threw his head back when he caught her, and it was overwhelming.

He thought about how he'd never hung around his mother before the tragedy. Now, he'd been such a stupid fool knowing that his mother was the only thing he ever saw him when he closed his eyes, but she was never enough before when his eyes were open.

And another hundred times came to him that he ignored her. When he fell down his broom after having been out in St. Mungo's from an accident when he was seven and all he did was shrug her off; when she cooked him a porridge and he left it out cold; when he had been awarded as a prefect and his mother had hugged him but he cringed and shook her away.

It was all memories now.

And he stared at the picture, wondering what had happened wrong and searching for clues as to why they'd been targeted. It wasn't as if he killed a person in his past life to get this luck or that the people who he bullied went out of their way to send out a killing curse. No - if Albus Potter's theory was right, that they ought to be careful, then it must've been that Potter was just as in danger as he was with Rose.

Then he looked at the vast view of Hogwarts in the night. There's that kind of unfathomable solitude than it was in the night than it was depicted in day. Scorpius found out that his _night_ self didn't go together with his _day_ self. Maybe it was because most of the human race were unconscious and he's one of the some who could enjoy the clarity. Maybe it was because, somewhere, he knew that his mother had been watching him, and upon finding out that he was out late and will probably be sleep deprived the very next day, she'd scream bloody murder at him and then tend to wake everybody up.

Because now, with the stars that had probably died out light years away, he'd stand here in this very spot and wonder if ever someone really thought that if he'd aimed for the moon, he would land to the stars - when the closest one was about 93 million miles away? And in the way of telling that his grandmother was right - that what if finding who the killer was wouldn't set them free?

His thoughts were interrupted as a little movement behind him occurred. The blond, suddenly alert, held his wand up defensively. It was common knowledge that he was good in duels - even a star student once when Harry Potter substituted for a whole month in replace of a sick professor. He had been good, that's why he knew how to counter a lot of hexes that those bloody attackers threw at him. "Who's there?" He hissed.

The culprit, hidden behind a post, walked out shyly. "Hey, Malfoy."

"Weasley?" He slowly lowered his wand, "What do you think you're doing here?" His eyes narrowed together with his patience and annoyance. But here she was, in front of him, and he couldn't even explain why he wasn't shouting at her (he didn't really care about shouting here. Old Filch would be the only one he'd wake up, if ever).

Weird thing was, he told himself that he'd immediately boil his blood with anger, but upon seeing her, only annoyance about her disappearance could word out what he'd been feeling. Because Potter had been right; she _didn't_ ask for it - didn't ask for his mother to save her.

"I - _well,_ I came by to see how you're doing." Rose Weasley had said, her fingers fumbling over to her usual _Pokemon_ pyjamas, her hair disheveled. Scorpius thought that she might've just gotten out of bed, and that she skipped the kitchens tonight.

"Where _were_ you?" He snapped, both curious and impatient. She was staring at him as if she was about to cry, but continued on about her silence. "Where were - _everyone_ was there, but you!"

"Scorpius, I -"

"Don't call me 'Scorpius'!" The anger finally arrived, and it was that moment when Rose Weasley started crying. "No, Weasley, I told you to stay behind the bar! What was in your mind that you didn't fucking listen?! It's a simple instruction, for God's sake -"

She tried reaching out to him, but he slapped her hand away. "Malfoy, I can't -"

"You can't what?" He snapped, "Was the guilt eating you alive? If my mother had time to run to you, _hell,_ you might have had time to duck behind!"

"Malfoy, please listen -"

"No, Rose Weasley, I've had it with you! I can't believe I ever thought of you as something -"

"Malfoy, please -"

"No! Where the fuck have you been!" Scorpius pushed her as she slightly stumbled back. "Why can't you bloody tell me where? And why the hell didn't you show up? I spoke, didn't you know that?"

Rose stared up at him with tears clouding her vision, not even bothering to speak. "It was my mother's funeral, Weasley." He breathed, "And you weren't there. Where were you?"

The young Malfoy sat down on the cold, stone floor and ran a hand through his hair harshly. He shook his head and met her eyes. "I should have known."

She kneeled down in front of him and put a shaking hand on his shoulder. "I'm so sorry, Malfoy. I got scared. I'm so sorry because I'd be the one to live and not your mum. I'm sorry because I thought people are going to blame me for your mother's death even though I really truly deserved it." She wiped the tears on her cheeks. "I'm so sorry that I wasn't in front of you when you said your speech. And I'm so grateful for what your mother did. She's my hero."

Scorpius stared ahead as he heard this, not even sparing her a glance. He thought about now, he was hearing her apology, but it didn't feel any good. What's done was done. Were the things Rose had said any better than what he was already facing? Or was he just to inclined to always find a flaw in everything?

"Stay _away_ from me, Rose Weasley." He whispered passively. She sobbed a little harder and apologized for one more time, then left.

And now, all he could think about was what was going to happen tomorrow. Would any form of revenge make him feel better? He doubted it. Nevertheless, there's one thing that he'd be focused on achieving: be the best.

All would be in a matter of academics, Quidditch, and the internship. _No more Rose Weasley._

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**_PLEASE REVIEW!_**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: **Hi guys! So sorry for the not-so-long update. 6 days of school this week and every goddamn day, we have a quiz. I'm quite disappointed with my Statics' and Highway Eng'g's exam results. It's sad because they're my major subjects.

Hey! Any thoughts about the Ron/Hermione/Harry pairing issue? To be honest, never really saw them (Harry and Hermione) together. It's like the most cliche love story ever in which the hero falls in love with the obvious heroine. Sure, they're compatible - but what the hell? It's like incest (No hatez - I ship**_ Dramione_** religiously).

ANYWAY! Apologies for the lack of Rose and Scorpius interaction in a few chapters (yes, actually, this story is more of a Scorpius based - but that doesn't change the fact that it won't happen; patience is the best virtue there is).

**Disclaimer: **Hi, not JKR. But yes, this plot is mine.

* * *

_**As the Rain Falls**_

_**Chapter 9:**_

_Three months had passed._

To think that three months would have changed the world. The second Wizarding War's last battle happened overnight, and a lot of lives have changed then. Three weeks of the holidays could change a perspective of somebody. An absolutely perfect event could be built within two months of preparation. What more if things were to happen in three months?

But nothing much had changed about Hogwarts. The school was still festive with their inter-house competitions. The Slytherins were still out and about bullying the lower years. The Quidditch matches still held the Gryffindors versus the Slytherins for the last match. Students who have enough guts to get detention were still busted by the prefects in their rounds after curfew. Classes still begins and ends at the same schedule.

All in all, Hogwarts stayed the same.

However, for one Scorpius Malfoy, everything had been different since.

Every morning, he would go to the Great Hall to get his breakfast, all the while talking to his colleagues. After, he'd go to the library and read about a paragraph or two regarding the background of the Ministry's Auror Training or some revising before the bell rings. Classes would start at about eight in the morning - and usually Teddy Lupin, his professor in his first class _(Defense Against the Dark Arts)_, would be late. In lunch, he'd go back beside Isaac and Nott Jr., discussing Quidditch tactics with the latter. Their afternoon classes would pass him by quickly, and then the Slytherin Quidditch Team would go into the pitch to practice until dinner. If he still had time, he'd do some of his essays that was due three weeks later. And then, he would go to his dormitory and sleep a dreamless slumber.

For three months, that was his routine.

The young Malfoy's life turned into something that was kind of robotic. _But truly?_ He was quite thankful about it. Scorpius was distracted about the hostile fact that his mother was dead, and that he would have to forget a someone whom he actually harboured feelings to - even for a little bit.

Besides, all his exams were outstanding, his essays were passed on time, and he was in more in shape that he had ever been. Although headaches where included and he once had blacked out for about a couple of minutes because of, he reckoned, the exhaustion in Quidditch.

And he's pursuing in ignoring Rose Weasley like she was a wallpaper or a praying mantis. He'd see her ginger head on the mass of crowd but he'd neglect it right after. If he was being truthful, knowing that she was there was his only consolation. He knew that it would slowly go away soon. She was irrelevant. _No more Rose Weasley._

The sad thing was, however, that he was so keen on ignoring her but he didn't seem faze by the fact that she's still the first person he'd look for in a crowd. It was a habit that was exhaustively difficult to break and change overtime.

So here was Scorpius in the Great Hall, eating his pumpkin pie, reading halfway through one of the four letters delivered to him via owl posts. It was from his grandmother.

_Your father was still obsessed about the case. But don't fret, it is just a phase. He's always sore to the people who have wronged him. You go on with your schoolwork._

_I've heard about the sudden boost of your performance in school. We're so proud of you here. Hope to see you in easter, but the word told me that your internship will take place in that month. Well, I assumed graduation will come around soon. I miss you, Scorpius._

_Love always,_

**_Your grandmother._**

_P.S. Don't overwork yourself. We're sure you'll bring much honour in Slytherin. Your mother is already proud of you._

He sighed and slid the letter back in the envelope. The other three was from the_ Chudley Cannons_, the Prophet and the Ministry respectively. "Oh, you got a letter from the prophet too?" Isaac suddenly asked, looking over his shoulder. He slid next to Scorpius, grabbing a slice of bread and spreading a fine layer of peanut butter on it.

"Yeah, mate. You too?" He quietly answered. Isaac grinned widely, "Yes! I got the internship!"

See, Isaac was one of those who liked and have a potential about Quidditch, but never bothered pursuing it as a career. He was more of the creative right _brainers_ - his mind was more inclined on arts, literature and music. That was why when the application forms were distributed, he was so happy that the number of interns needed by the prophet was more than twenty-five.

Scorpius opened the envelope from the prophet and simply looked for the word _ACCEPTED_ in green ink. There it was, at the bottom. He nudged his cousin and tossed him the parchment, "I got in too."

"Oh, you did?" Isaac said, a little bit disappointed. Scorpius sensed that his cousin might have been anxious that they'll get him for the vacant slot. The internship was for twenty five, but the job was only for one. "Well, I'm not really planning on taking it. I don't want to write."

It was then that he knew his assumption was true when the lad finally genuinely smiled: Isaac did not want him as a competition. And in all honesty, he wasn't really sure if he's okay with that either.

Scorpius dumped the letter from the_ Chudley Cannons_ in his goblet of pumpkin juice while Nott Jr. and about five other Slytherin glared at him in annoyance. It was a shitty Quidditch team, why would he want to see if he's accepted or not? And surely, they wouldn't send him a letter if he's not accepted nor was recommended.

"Why, Malfoy, did you not open the letter?" said Nott, smirking. "Afraid that you didn't get in?"

The blond glanced at him, nonchalant. He knew the bloke was itching to know. "Well, why don't you check it, Nott?"

Theodore Nott Jr.'s smirk faded. He grabbed a Hufflepuff freshmen from behind and commanded him to read the letter. The poor Hufflepuff gulped and nodded. _"To Mister Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy. We are very impressed by your standing and skills observed in the previous Quidditch matches by our representatives. You have been accepted as a trainee for the Chudley Cannons' Quidditch Team. In a matter of months, you may be included in a match in the next Quidditch World Cup if ever there was an opened slot. Thank you and have a nice day."_ Nott's eyes widened, quickly grabbing the wet letter and reading it himself.

Scorpius shrugged and brought the last envelope in his face. "From the Ministry." Isaac murmured. Suddenly, the young Malfoy felt his heart race a bit. _Save the best for the last._

This was _it._ This would be his chance. In truth, he was always nervous when this moment would come, but he never really showed it. He was confident, but he was worried at the same time. Now, it had come. His dreams concealed in a textured cover with his name on it. He's finally opening the envelope.

**_To Mister Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy,_**

_You have been invited to join the three interns required for the Auror Training. We are very happy with your standing in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, most specifically in your program, Defense Against the Dark Arts._

_We, at the Auror Office in the Ministry of Magic Britain, do encourage you to send a reply if you were to accept this opportunity. Ignore this letter if you have chosen another career path._

_Your answer will be waited until a week after this letter was sent. Thank you and have a good day._

**_Harry James E. Potter_**

_Head Auror,_

_Ministry of Magic_

Scorpius' eyes widened._ I got in?_ He thought. "I got in!" The blond shoved the paper in front of Isaac. His cousin beamed proudly, "Yes, you did! Congrats, mate!"

* * *

"Malfoy, I heard you were accepted in the Auror Training." Albus Potter began as Scorpius met him in front of the library for their rounds.

"You heard right, Potter." He muttered. It wasn't as if they were friends already, but they were in some kind of acquaintanceship. Because when Albus Potter requested to Heads Klenn Finnigan and Dominique Weasley that he'd be paired up with Scorpius Malfoy in their prefect duties, he was sure that it was about what had happened three months ago.

"Good. More time to figure out who." Potter mumbled. For the months that they were in duties, the two have been on about finding out who have Imperiused the attackers back in the Ministry Ball. Apparently, the young Malfoy's wrong about Isaac and Albus; both saw each other in the loo with their dates.

The progress of their observation was down to zero. They narrowed the people who could have had motives and asked their connections in the Ministry about the _Waterspock_ letter. Scorpius even used the Restricted Section in the library to look for clues about spells that could see patterns. Albus also shared some experiences about feeling as if someone's watching him.

But they had one thing for sure: the bloke was either in Hogwarts or had a spy inside the school.

So, they wrote the possible culprits - but their list revealed people who didn't even talk to them or know them and vice versa. Their luck, unfortunately, was nonexistent.

Of course, both of their parents were on the look for the wrongdoer, but they would help regardless of what they said.

Scorpius glanced at his partner, "You have been accepted too, I see." He could tell that something was bothering the lad, but he didn't pry. It was none of his business - unless, you know, it was about the case.

Albus nodded, eyes narrowing without looking at him. The blond reckoned that he was just in deep thought and was distracted. "The other one was Evelyn Ristcroff from Ravenclaw."

"Oh, the geeky one with the mouth salivating?"

"Good description, Malfoy." Potter grumbled, "That was back in third year. Glad you never let her live that down."

"Yeah, sadly."

* * *

The halls of Hogwarts were buzzing about the massive news about Rose Weasley dating a lad from Slytherin. It led down to a few guesses, and one of the top lads on the list was Scorpius Malfoy - in which, he had no idea of the rumour until it was lunch the very next day.

"Did you hear that Rose Weasley was seen lip locked with a Slytherin last night?" One of the fifth years in front of Scorpius had said. "God, it was a disgrace! She's a Weasley! Everyone knows that Weasley reproduce like rabbits."

"Yes! I heard about that too! But I bet that it's just false talk. No one would bother looking at that girl. She's so bland."

Scorpius didn't know how to feel about this. It's as if he was shocked and angry at the same time, but he long ago decided that she's just another girl and that she didn't matter to him anymore.

"But you know who's their prime guess?" The first speaker whispered, nodding at Scorpius. "Him." Both of the girls look at him and shook their heads. "Well, I'm definitely never going to believe those kind of shitties. They're all bollocks and Malfoy? _Can't_ be."

He ignored the gossiping girls. He knew better than to believe those garbage. The promise he made to himself gave him enough sense to be indifferent with those empty, balant rumours.

But his mind did wonder if it was ever true. If Rose Weasley was ever in a relationship. Regardless of the accident with his mother, everyone knew how she'd become this beautiful woman who hid behind the curtain, her books, and her baggy robes. It's always a laid-out secret that everyone was wondering if she'd ever be married and when, if it was to happen.

So when the young Malfoy saw the _bane_ of his existence a few hours later in Hogsmeade, going around a desolated alley, he sneaked behind her despite the fact that his mind and everything that he stood up for those three months will probably go back to the rubbish bin. Internally, he argued; externally, he pursued on the act. _'Curiosity over reason'_ was always his motto.

And just then, Scorpius froze and felt his heart race a bit when she turned around and almost saw him. Good thing that another one of his motto was _'preparation over unprepared circumstances when stalkin_g' and cast himself a _Disillusionment Charm._

He now knew that she knew someone was following her. But she continued to walk and shrugged it off as nothing.

Scorpius stopped when she turned in another corner, because he knew it was a dead-end road. He hid behind a column when he heard her speaking - _whispering - _to somebody.

"- no, I think they're really just idiots, you know. Rumours are bad. Really bad." He heard her say. "They believe in something so unrealistic, it almost hurt to see or even just be there."

"Nah, don't be such a baby, Rose. Just enjoy the attention -" Scorpius knew the voice. He knew the voice like the back of his hand.

"How the hell would I enjoy the attention, Isaac?" She hissed, "I don't even want my cousin finding out about us and our little deal. It's bad enough that they point it to Malfoy - and Malfoy is Albus' _slight _friend -" _He wasn't a_ slight_ friend, for god's sake. _"I just don't like attention. It's giving me bad goosebumps."

"Oh, come off it, Weasley." Isaac drawled. "It's as if we're together, any way. No, we _are_ not. It's just... I see how he looks at you, you know. It's different. I've never seen him do that to anyone."

"Can't I stress this to you enough? He _hates_ me. He probably wrote my name on Santa's list of bad girls for the Christmas this year."

"Who the _fuck_ is Santa?"

Rose groaned, "Nevermind. I can't even do this anymore, you know. It really sucks and I think Albus knows. Like, this thing existed when we were still young. I can't do it anymore, Isaac. I wanted to tell him everything. I owe him that. _We_ owe him that."

"You saw the letter. You can't back out now, Rose. You _vowed._"

_What did Isaac mean? _Scorpius thought.

"I know what I did. And I won't back out anyway." She mumbled.

Isaac sighed, "He's bound to find out soon. Just... we promised. I knew Albus would crack soon. But this was planned too long. We can't have it failing. We're all in danger, remember that. _Especially_ me and Scorpius."

"Why can't we just go ahead and tell him everything? So that he'll know. I don't understand why we've had to do this."

And Scorpius didn't, either. It was as if they were talking about him, about a plan that he just wasn't sure about. Now, he was more keen on being too careful who to talk to and when to say the right things. He would found out soon, as Isaac had said. But when?

"You know why, Rose Weasley. You know _why."_

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**Confused? Then leave a review!**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: **Happy Valentine's day! Unfortunately, no _Scorose_ Interaction in this, but this is a VITAL chapter. A lot could be found in this, ok? Go on, do read it and REVIEW!

Oh, I used a lot of Spanish words in this. Do tell me what you think! I think some characters might be out of their natures, but do please consider that a lot have changed since then. _**And OH GOD I apologize for my errors in the past chapters! I have had them fixed now.** _So sorry! They were barely edited because of Uni works. The next update would probably be next Saturday.

**Disclaimer: **I have my rights and characters, and JKR has her own.

* * *

_**As the Rain Falls**_

_**Chapter 10:**_

There are two kinds of people in the world: the people who observe and the people who just didn't know when to stop reacting. To be in between was to be _Ethiopic_ - a mere made-up perfection. It's either one is too passive or one is too aggressive. The solitude would basically be found in their very own perspectives.

Though, even two impeccably different people could form a positively centric relationship. Differences were shove aside, forgotten and refused. Sometimes, those differences even lead to a confusion about feelings of cruel attachment that could basically fuck someone out if it was taken away.

And who were people to judge about those things? That maybe, those two different people weren't so different after all.

Like, say, the uncanny friendship formed by the very different Scorpius Malfoy and Albus Potter - who, as God forbid, would save each other's life in turn for the other. That now, inside a testing room provided by the Ministry in the start of their training, they'd stand back to back, firing hexes to everything that moves. It was said to be a room for testing if the Auror Trainees were really that deserving - like a final interview for a job.

Potter would put a Shielding Charm and Malfoy would fire curses. And when both were suddenly at loss at their tasks, they'd switch places.

The partnership was so good, they managed to sneak a slot - the two of them - in the stage one of the real training, which was to happen near the Tenerife Sea in the Canaries in Spain.

They were so ecstatic about it, they forgot to console their schoolmate, Evelyn Ristcroff, about how she didn't get it. Well, it wasn't really a surprise anyway - the girl was good, but she was never better. And, including the non-student applicants, the quota of twenty was reached. _Dun-dun. Goodbye to Auror Training. See you, maybe, after we graduated!_

And now, after the simulated examination, he would be meeting his father at the Atrium for lunch. Tonight, there were quarters to be conjured in the Atrium for the interns, but on the next day, they'd all move to Spain via port keys.

"Scorpius." Draco Malfoy said, nodding at his son. He gestured for him to follow him to his office. The two of them rode up the elevators for two floors, not saying another word at each other. When they reached the third floor, where the new Auror Office was, they turned to a corner and went inside the small closed cubicle - but was quite massive inside. Spells could really make a whole lot of difference regarding spaces.

Scorpius used to love this place. His father always brought him here whenever his late mother and his grandmother were busy about renovating their interiors with his Aunt Daphne. Also, his mother insisted that he spend time with his father. It was quality time and it made it seem as though his father was some kind of a super hero when he watched him in the training room. And his father was quite high up – as he was so knowledgeable about Dark Arts that they intended to keep him for the darker raids with the Head Auror.

But now, it just seem dull. Maybe aging made everything dull. He used to think that this place was so big - like massive; he thought the walls would eat him if he stared at the ceiling for too long. If circumstances were made and he was trying to reach an apple on the desk, he would hastily climb a small stool and a shelf to just reach the apple.

There was so much effort exerted in everything before. The only difference today was: he used to _like_ doing the effort. He wasn't _forced_ to do it, but he just _wants_ to.

Draco glanced at his son and waved his hand dismissively. In an instant, two full plates of meal replaced the stack of paper works on the massive mahogany desk. "Thank you, father." Scorpius murmured, sitting in one of the opposing chairs made for the guests, stabbing his sausages with a silver fork.

"Son, I heard you have been accepted... for the stage one of the training." He heard his father say. "Rest assured that your mother and I were very proud of you."

That was the thing about him and his father. His grandmother told him that his late grandfather was so hard on his son that he forgot to express how much he loved him – although it was proven that old Lucius would die for them. And that made his father want to do the different thing with his son. _Him_. He wanted him to know how much he was important - not merely just his accessory that he could go on and brag about (even if there's really a reason why Scorpius should be bragged about) and be his own man. Draco had made it to a point to tell him good advice and to be his _go-to_ guy. But it turned out that they grew up the same, just in a different setting.

Both were miserable and incomplete - _poor_, that all they had was money. Hopefully, Draco had thought, his son would find some solace in a person much like he had with Astoria.

"You have heard right, father." The young Malfoy nodded. He looked down at his food and finally took a bite. "Spend the night in the manor later." He heard him say, "You ought to make an appearance to your grandmother. She had said she wanted to go here, but we don't _want_ that."

They both chuckled. His father shook his head, "You know how she's taking the attention out of our young apprentices. And she's always fussing."

"_Mothers_." He agreed as his father nodded. A pause ensues the two, and Draco, seemingly nervous, finally interrupted it.

"Look, son." He sighed, "I know I was never really there when your mother died. And I'm sorry. I should have been more sensitive and be like a father -"

"I understand." And Scorpius _did_. He understood it, because it was the same thing that he felt. And would feel, if ever and _hopefully_ _not_, that the circumstances were to happen to him.

Draco gave him a small smile. "Good. At least we're done with the uncanny part."

"Grandmother forced you, didn't she?"

"Yes, but you must know that I've done it sincerely." The older Malfoy sliced his sausage, "Now, regarding your recent future... We never had the chance to talk in the holidays but I have decided that you ought to handle the Malfoy family business -"

Scorpius' eyes widened in surprise. Actually, more of in annoyance and anger. "But father -"

"No, I know about your _want_ of a future. But do hear this out -"

"Father, _surely_ you can handle that by yourself -"

"Son, if circumstances wouldn't _allow_ for me to do so, I would request for you to deal with it."

He shook his head, "What if I don't want to?" Because he doesn't want any of it. If it was in his favour, he'd rather build up his name with his own will, _beyond_ the Malfoy legacy. Sure, his father did vacate his office in the Auror Department from time to time to deal with their family business, but he's not really _him_. He don't want that. He wanted to enjoy his life as an Auror - _not_ as a part-time business man, part-time hero of the day. All his life, he followed his father's shadow. He never wanted that. Maybe, if ever he was too old or too weak to save the world, he'd succumb to the boring office work of his father. But that was likely not going to be happening soon.

"You can't not want to. It's a _must_. Everything is in order. All we need is your word." His father gave him a roll of parchment from a cabinet near his right. "And be careful with that, son. It can't be set into a fire or what else. It'll follow you everywhere until you've neatly stacked it into your cabinet or some important time capsule box you kids ought to call these days.

"And I've tolerated your games for the past years. Believe me, it is far better for you to stop pursuing your Aurorship -"

The young Malfoy immediately stood up, dropping his silver fork with a soft _clink_! on the carpeted floor. Draco lifted his stoic gaze to his son, "Scorpius, stop being so melodramatic. I'm not planning on making you stop, I just suggest that it is better."

"Father, please, I have had it with this talk. It's like you're moulding me to do this ever since I was able to walk!" He replied, eyebrows furrowing. "I would rather you find another one of your minions to handle the business if circumstances _were_ -"

"The circumstances _where_ the next generation of the Malfoys could handle the heirloom. _No one else_."

"_No._ I politely decline." Scorpius said firmly, turning around to leave. His father shook his head, "Don't be so stubborn. You know it wouldn't leave you. I suggest you embrace it soon or balance your time. It wouldn't take much away." Draco got up, waving his wand on the table. "I'll expect you at dinner tonight."

He sighed and reached for the brass knob.

* * *

The atmosphere in Spain, in the islands of Canary, was better than what they were expecting. To say that it's too hot for coat but too cold for a shirt would perfectly describe it. Probably about thirteen to fifteen degrees out.

The Tenerife Sea that was said to be amazing was an understatement. It was this vast azure water body that seemed to go on for millions of miles - so clear, the little corals and shells could be seen from standing and merely looking down. Around it lays a massive bank of pale yellow sand, mixed in with a various collection sea shells near the shore. The air was calming and refreshing - the smell of the salty water barely suffocating the lot.

And here they were, the Auror Trainees. All twenty of them. With their mentors, Ron Weasley and some more from below his standing. They were standing with their feet planted on the beige sand, straight bodies harbouring a straight face looking straight ahead.

"Welcome, future Aurors. I'm Auror Ronald Weasley, the head in training and command for the Auror Office." Ron Weasley had said, glancing at each of their faces one by one, hands behind his back. "We chose this place for this year's training to test your limitations. Here lies a nice place to spend the rest of your lives away, yet a disconcerting consequence would be in place. _Las Islas de la Eterna Primavera_.

"With that being said, the training will start by five in the morning. Your instructors will be introduced as the meetings expand. Schedules, room assignments, and house duties would be distributed by our Auror Miguel de Ybarra, Deputy Head Auror for the Spanish Ministry of Magic." A raven-haired man, about thirty-five, with fair skin, wide eyes, and magnificently-shaped tall nose appeared beside Auror Weasley, grinning and nodding to the trainees. "Be prepared – this month would determine the few of you who shall undergo the three-year training. And, believe me, it was all worth it. Aurors are very well respected in our world, and are likely to be candidates as the future British Minister of Magic. If any of you lot wanted to quit, say so now. The Hit Wizards might have a thing for the cowards you are."

The determined expression on the faces of the trainees remain unfazed. All seemed to have hidden their fright and unconventional feelings of hesitation. Ron Weasley nodded, smirking. "Good. Now, if you will, Mister de Ybarra." He stepped away from the front-centre of the crowd and gestured for Auror de Ybarra to step forward. Miguel de Ybarra once again smiled, flashing his pearly-whites, and said, with a heavy Spanish accent, "_Bienvenidos_ _a Islas Canarias!_ Or, for you people to understand – Welcome to the Canaries! Specifically in the Tenerife.

"I will call your name one by one and you shall come forward with your _la maleta _or your portmanteaus and proceed to your _la asignación de habitaciones. _Your room assignments. You will be given a _brazalete _as your beepers and signals if you were called to an assignment. Please do wear it all the time and _la buena suerte._"

The name calling started alphabetically. When the letter 'M' came up, Scorpius strode forward, meeting the eye of Mister de Ybarra. The older man smirked and handed him a card with a wooden bracelet which have intricate carvings on the beads. "Señor Malfoy – from the French word '_Mal foi'_, which means bad faith." He murmured, "_Que es interesante._"

Scorpius nodded, not even showing any hint of curiosity or what else. He glanced at his card and walked about a hundred metres and hiked a small distance to where the actual people resided in. The place was isolated from Muggles, of course. He found the cabins after ten minutes – which wasn't what he expected – the usual about this Island.

They weren't made from wood; they were actually built with proper rocks and concrete, painted with white walls and geometrically shaped, terra cotta-coloured ceilings. He thought about how _Santorini_ in Greece was much like this place, having almost the same architecture and land infrastructure, and found out that he was already liking it.

He checked every door, looking for his cabin – _cottage 1056_ – and found it just as Albus Potter had. Apparently, poor Scorpius Malfoy had taken the longer route. "Malfoy."

"What the bloody hell are you planning to do in my cabin, Potter?" It wasn't really a question, though. It was much like an unwelcoming greeting. Albus rolled his eyes and muttered a "Grow up." before saying the password (Pilliwickle) for their _now _shared dormitory.

"I didn't know room assignments were also arranged _alphabetically._" grunted Scorpius, looking at the two single beds with white sheets and a meagre pillow in the small cottage.

"Unfortunately, Malfoy. Bloody unfortunately."

* * *

**GUYS, if it will make you review, THERE WILL BE A LOT OF SCORPIUS/ROSE interactions in the next chapter (although, a past-like chapter. From what happened in the day after the Draco/Scorpius lunch).**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: **Exam week is coming (about 2 weeks, actually) and they're all midterms. SO YEAH NO FAST UPDATES FOR A WHILE. Like, just a _while. _Okay. Fine, no weekly update next week - or if I have enough energy still, we'll see :) SO REVIEW!

_SO SORRY FOR MY PREVIOUS GRAMMATICAL ERRORS - as you see, I've yet to edit them, and this._

**Disclaimer: **Nada.

* * *

_**As the Rain Falls**_

_**Chapter 11:**_

Apparently, the news about the early student internship - or in Scorpius Malfoy's case, _training_ - of Hogwarts spread out on the prophet. Head Mistress McGonagall have always wanted it to be confidential, but maybe it couldn't be really kept out from the media since the families of the seventh years were informed - ergo, a whole lot of gossiping witches was alerted and _bam_! Not only did the prophet know, but Witch Weekly too!

It had gotten so out of hand that McGonagall seemed to have chosen not to mind it. And so does the rest of the seniors. They were too busy of their works, anyway.

But when Scorpius saw the headline of the Witch Weekly when walking in the Wizarding Market of the Tenerife the afternoon they'd arrived, he was more than surprised at the blue eyes staring right at him, smiling.

It was Narcissa Malfoy. His grandmother.

The headline read: _Another Attack at The Malfoys?_

He grabbed the sealed magazine and brought it to the counter, "How much is this?"

"_Por pabor_?" A brunette, tall man with a moustache had said. The young Malfoy shook his head and immediately racked his brain for translations. "_Cuánto para este?"_

"Oh. _Si. Dos galeones. Nuestra ultima copia._" The shop keeper held up two fingers, smiling. He gave him a couple of galleons and walked away. Apparently, British Wizarding magazines were far more expensive here because of the import.

Scorpius quickly peeled off the plastic on the cover and flipped to the page as to where the article was written in. The images in the first page were all about the ball and their pictures taken by the hired photographers, moving gracefully as they were dancing. Then, he saw the textual page and read on.

_Former Death Eater Wife, Narcissa Malfoy, Attacked?_

_**By Margarita Tobias**_

_It has been reported that an attack at the Malfoy Manor in Wilthshire happened last night, 24__th__ of April, 2025._

_Narcissa Malfoy (nee Black), now 69, was attacked by a _'black hooded figure' _that resembles a dementor. Apparently, their house elf, Skippy, informed the Aurors four minutes too late as he was '_too busy preparing dinner'_. The whole right wing of the manor was ruined._

_It was believed that the real target was the youngest Malfoy – Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy – but left too early for his pre-training for his Aurorship together with his father, Draco Malfoy._

A picture of him with his grandmother was inserted in this part.

_Rumour has it that the family is very much targeted after what happened to Astoria Malfoy in the Ministry Ball last December._

_Poor Narcissa Malfoy was confined in St. Mungo's and was under a coma. Said to be thoroughly tortured with a _Cruciatus Curse _by a stolen wand from a Scottish Witch named Clementine Waterspock – who passed away three years ago._

_We can only wish for the regal Madam Malfoy to get well soon._

Albus Potter shook his head and threw the magazine in the blond's shin when he picked it up from Scorpius' desk and read the article as he was writing his owl. "I don't really think you should be so worked out about this, Malfoy. It _is _a Witch Weekly article. Everybody knows that it's just as insane as the Quibbler."

"No," He said, sealing the letter with a waved of his wand. "I don't think it is. Why would they bother writing about us? And my grandmother? Her last Witch Weekly article before this was three months ago."

"And that's a big deal _because_?"

"_Because_! Because if my grandmother was off the public for a few months, she's probably keeping a low profile." He walked towards the door. "See, last year and the years before, my grandmother was in _every_ Witch Weekly article."

Scorpius left and headed to the large, open marquee tent near the sea where all the owls were placed. He tied the roll of parchment to a white Ministry owl, all the while wondering if it could take the long journey from Spain to Wiltshire and dismissed it since the Ministry wouldn't be putting it out here if it wouldn't be used. "Send this to Draco Malfoy and only to Draco Malfoy. Don't even trust the house elf with it, understand?"

The owl gave a small hoot and held out its free claw. Scorpius gave it two knuts and patted its head. "Godspeed, little owl." It flapped its wings three times and flew away, him watching it as it mixed itself with the orange horizon.

The young Malfoy sighed and looked around. If ever his grandmother was really in danger, he knew that he wouldn't be able to continue his journey to be here. He would - _he should_ - be with her to a time like this. Keep her safe. Guard over the whole manor. And probably, if ever an attack ensues, he'd be able to see who had _Imperiused_ the attackers back at the ball.

_Boy_, he couldn't resist the opportunity. He wouldn't be able to. Revenge was far more important than this. And wasn't that why he didn't give in to his father's wishes of handling the family business? Scorpius could bloody hell do a great job of being an Auror and a businessman, but in the terms of today, he would very much prefer to focus on the more relevant things. Like finding the goddamn murderer who wanted him so badly incapable.

He returned to his quarters, only to find that it was deserted. The carving on this beaded bracelet lit up, pulling him out of the door and to an area in the beach with a bonfire in the middle of the sandy clearing. The lights on his bracelet flickered off as Albus approached him with a barbecue in hand. "Where have you been, Malfoy?"

"I thought you were smart enough to figure out where - since I was writing a letter. _God_, I thought it was common knowledge, Potter." He muttered sarcastically.

Scorpius glanced around. His colleagues where all around the place, socializing with each other. Their mentors were found to be roasting some more on the bonfire - but Ron Weasley was uncannily nowhere to be found. He grabbed the stick that Albus was about to bite in, earning him a glare from the lad. "Hey! I was going to eat that -"

"Where's your uncle?" He asked.

Potter looked around, the food obviously forgotten. "Oh - right. He told me he'd be around tomorrow but he have to do some Ministry business tonight."

"Potter," The blond murmured, "don't you think it's obvious? That the person who attacked my grandmother could be the fugitive?"

"I've thought about that - and about how Uncle Ron _portkeyed_ away from here to his _'Ministry'_ business." Said Albus, nodding. "I floo messaged my father to confirm this and he did, saying that it was safer to be here now. I think he's right. Let's not do anything reckless for now - we need this training, Malfoy. It will prepare us to get out there and kick their arses."

"But my grandmother was attacked!" He hissed, glaring. "What if she'll be targeted in St. Mungo's? And they'd really kill her? What about that? I can't have that happening -"

"Malfoy, please, your grandmother wouldn't be murdered. Apart from she's half-dead - with the possibility of going back to life, no offense meant - she's the bait. She's _your_ bait." Potter walked back near their co-trainees, with Malfoy trailing behind. "You should just enjoy this, you know. Be active in the training. Don't mind what else happens. My father and your father will deal with the adult business. It's not our job. _Yet_.

"Just do your best here and keep what you learn. You're going to badly need it in combat. To be fair, you're more than in danger than me and Rosie - if our assumptions are correct. That it was an old death eater."

And then Scorpius remembered the scene in Hogsmeade when he heard Isaac and Rose conversing about a secret. And that Albus probably knew about it. "Potter, where was Weasley's internship?"

"Prophet. Why?"

"So she's with Isaac, then?"

"Yes."

_I bloody knew it._ He thought. "Do you know something about the two of them? Like their secret or what? I heard something in Hogsmeade last weekend."

Albus stared at him menancingly. He looked around and spoke in a low voice. "Let's talk about it in the cabin later."

And three hours and five bottles of beer later, they both went to their cabin, not even having any sign of intoxication from the alcohol - or at least, _not_ Scorpius. He walked over to his bed - on the left side of the room facing the door - and lied there, all the while Albus was cleaning himself up in the loo, having thrown up on the way. He looked at the ceiling and sighed. It was bothering him how he lost the sensation of being drunk. Or if he was just a heavy drinker.

He also thought about his grandmother and how she was brought into this wreck. When Potter told him about his theory last December in the cemetery, he knew for sure that he's right - that they were the ones who were targeted. Him, Albus, and Rose. That their parents might've done something upsetting to the attacker, so now, they're seeking their revenge.

Scorpius didn't believe him at first. He knew that he was in danger, but reckoned that it has nothing to do with Albus and Rose. And Albus told him that the killing curse was never aimed for him, but for his cousin. Then, it made perfect sense. They're just waiting for the attack on Albus - and hopefully, they'd be prepared by then.

He wasn't really so sure now. About everything that had been happening. It was like he's trapped in this glass bottle and no matter how he tries to get through the narrow opening, he slips and slides back to the bottom. Because every clue that he's been seeing didn't match, so he'd go back to where he started.

It was a tiring process. One that if not patient enough, it would drive one mad. A lot of energy and industry should be exerted, and details should be reviewed very carefully. And even then, expect the unexpected, because you never know when events will happen next or if they were far worse than before.

"Bloody hell, beers and barbecues were never really a good match for me to begin with." Potter muttered, slumping on his bed and covering his eyes with a pillow. "Or that was just bad barbecuing. Or the barbecue sauce. Well, damn it! Why weren't you food poisoned, Malfoy?"

Scorpius snickered, "Potter, if you're too puny, it's not my fault." He shook his head. "Now, let's begin the talk. What do you know about Weasley and Isaac?"

Albus lifted the pillow from his face, looking at him and arching a curious brow. He nodded and transferred his gaze on the ceiling. "They're up to something. I've got a feeling that Zabini was just as in danger as you are. I think - I _theorized_ - that an ex-death eater, or a very important loved one of them, was seeking revenge over their co-death eaters who have switched sides. Which means Draco Malfoy _and_ Blaise Zabini."

"So you're saying that Isaac was in this too?"

"Yes, but I'm not certain what Zabini and Rose's motives were. Why they weren't going to us about it. Or if they're planning to fight sword with a quill. I'm not sure. We have to watch Zabini, see if he'll be attacked. All I know is, right now, your mother's death _might_ have been planned."

_Planned_? "What do you mean _'planned'_?" The blond ran a hand through his hair in exasperation, sitting up and looking at his companion. "How the hell was it planned? Like, _what_? They suddenly knew who's going to be targeted and be saved -"

"Malfoy, I don't know yet. It's a theory, alright? Don't get your knickers in a twist." Potter closed his eyes, sighing. "I don't know, but look for the little niches. You ought to find one. I just know that you're mother was in such a right timing. And she wasn't stunned, unlike the rest of your family was. To the looks of it, when I used _Legilimency_ on Rose's that night - first and the last - it was if she already knew. She wasn't even surprise. As if she had accepted what was going to happen. Let's just say she knew about this whole ordeal than we guessed. But it's still a theory, Malfoy."

"A theory, Potter." He grunted, "A theory which can be proven true... And what if it is? Why'd you think my mother would want to kill herself?"

"Well, aren't you dense? To save your life, of course."

* * *

Rose Weasley arrived in the island the next morning together with her father.

Rumour has it that she was dragged by her father due to the recent attack about Narcissa Malfoy. It was said that the safety in the Tenerife was far more than the security that the Ministry could provide because the best Aurors tend to stay with the trainees for the mentoring. The Prophet, however, didn't let a word out in their daily issue - which seemed as though the Ministry had something to do with it.

And to Scorpius Malfoy, well, he was quite irritated but relieved all the same.

So, earlier that day, when a knock on their cabin at three in the morning woke him up, he immediately knew it was trouble. He had retrieved his wand from under his pillow and tip toed to the door, kicking Albus' dangling foot from his bed - which woke the lad up with a loud groan. He immediately shushed him up, reaching for the knob on the door.

"What are you doing?"

"Someone knocked. Be quiet and get up."

Potter quickly stood up, his wand in his hand. He nodded and silently strode towards the door. "On the count of three." Malfoy mouthed. "One. Two. Three." The two pointed their wand to the wooden surface.

The door flung open, revealing a pale Rose Weasley biting her lower lip.

"Rosie?" Albus murmured anxiously. He pulled her inside and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be in London?"

Rose glanced around the area, to Albus and to Scorpius, her face reddening.

He was irritated because she was here and he couldn't even look her in the eyes, but relieved that she was indeed here - because God forbid, if they were to be attacked, then she'd be safe. With _him_. With _them_.

"Dad fetched me away from the Prophet quarters. He was worried I'll get attacked next. Again." She murmured. "He told me to stay with you for the night because there are no more quarters available."

The young Malfoy rolled his eyes, going back to lie on his bed. "If she'll be sleeping here, I'm not going to be the one sleeping on the floor."

Albus glared at him and rolled his eyes, "Idiot, we're going to be sleeping beside each other tonight. You and I."

"What?" He hissed, eyes narrowing furiously. "My bed is my bed; I refuse to share it with anybody - especially _you_."

"Fine, then how would you propose for Rose to sleep? Do you see any other bed?"

Rose quickly shook her head, "Albus, I'll be fine to sleep on the chair. No need to worry about me."

"_Yes_, let her sleep on the chair. She's the intruder here." Scorpius grumbled, covering himself with his blanket and facing the wall.

Albus pulled the cover from his body and scowled at him. "Come on, Malfoy! It's just for the night. Don't be such a prude -"

"No, Albus. I'm really fine with the chair -"

"Shut it, Rose -"

"Please, cousin. I really am alright with it -"

"No, Rose. Malfoy's being a git. He'll give in -"

"Cousin, I'm -"

"_Can you both just sod the fuck off?_" Scorpius sneered at the two of them, standing up and walking towards the door. "I wouldn't get a good night's sleep in two hours even if I were to refuse sharing my bed. So go on and have it!" He opened the door and stepped out. "Losers."

"Malfoy, _wait_!" Rose suddenly yelled, following after his quick strides. "Rosie, where do you think -" Albus began, but her glare stopped him from speaking further.

Scorpius walked faster, keen on avoiding the girl as much as possible. Unfortunately, though with little feet, she managed to catch up a couple of metres behind him. "Malfoy, please, wait."

He shook his head and continued, heading for the beach.

After what had happened from the other day, it was even more awkward for him to see her. Next to his lunch with his father back in the Ministry, they coincidentally found themselves alone in a lift.

Rose, being surprised and all, happened to forget to hold on the hand rails for support. And so when the lift started to begin its topsy-turvy journey down, she stumbled on her feet and upon the passive Scorpius - who was, at first, refusing to stare at her, but given the circumstances, he did so reluctantly. Both of them were pushed to the cold stainless surface of the lift's wall, with him unknowingly wrapping his arms around her waist to support, all the while too bewildered to speak.

It was as if the moment stopped. Scorpius felt his heart race as he stared at his reflection in those blue eyes that he had always wanted to dwell into. He thought about those times when he watched the snow. And it reminded him of her. Because Rose Weasley was like the snow - it comes once in a while, but it's so hard to forget. She's like the snow, because she's too quiet, but for some reasons, those who paid enough attention could hear her very well.

Even those three months wouldn't make him forget about what he had felt about her, but he had chosen not to focus on it.

Her eyes widened. She was far too disconnected from her senses - so when she tried to steady herself, she tripped over her feet, causing the two of them to land on the floor. He ran out of breath as she tackled him down with a loud thud, his head hitting the floor. _"Dammit, Weasley!"_ Scorpius choked, _"Get off of me - God, I can't breathe!"_

_"I'm so sorry!"_ She kept repeating over and over again, trying to get off of him and hoping it could undo the incident. Rose rolled off of him as the lift halted to a stop. The gates of the lift opened and about three Ministry employees stared down at them curiously.

And now, here was Scorpius, standing in front of the azure Tenerife Sea, hoping to shake the memory out of his system. The wind blows freely into him, making him relax a bit. He sighed and ran a hand through his blond hair.

Though, from his majestic luck, she managed to follow him. "Malfoy - _no_, Scorpius - I'm sorry to intrude in your quarters. I'll stay in my father's, if that would make you at peace."

He turned to face her, eye to eye. "Oh, come off it, Weasley! I gave the bed up, why don't you just bloody take it and go to sleep? Go talk to Potter or read your book - just stay away _from_ me."

"Is that what you'd really want, Malfoy?" She murmured. When he nodded, seemingly after a very long while, she looked down. "Alright. I'll not bother you again. I'm sorry for your inconvenience." Rose walked towards him and pulled something out of her pocket. A glass vial with a silvery cloud-like substance flowing inside it. He remembered seeing something like this inside his mother's velvet box with some of his memorabilia.

"Please keep this. You might find some of your answers." She handed him the vial and smiled a small smile. "I'm really sorry, Malfoy. Take care."

Scorpius watched as she walked away, hugging herself. He glanced at the fragile case in his hand, wondering what it could've been and why did she gave such an unusual gift for a failed plan of a peace treaty. He glanced back at her, fading in the background of the lighted alley going to the cabins and very much hoping that Potter was waiting for her in the dark paths.

It was uncanny, what he was feeling. He never really thought she'd forever be walking away, never really intending to avoid her forever. Because, to be honest, there was a twinge of hope in Scorpius that Rose would've been able to keep begging for his forgiveness until he'd finally accepted and they would move on, probably starting anew with their relationship - no matter what it would turn out to be. And even now, he didn't really feel that she would stay away from him to the end of eternity - because that wasn't the closure that their relationship needed. He knew _it_, and knew _that_, with the current timing and situation, he should be the one to walk away. He imagined it to be out of grudges – their closure – and not like _this_. Not like as if he was left sitting on an end of a see-saw, unsatisfied and confused.

And soon enough, the rain had started to fall.

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**REVIEWS!**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: **Hey! To my sweet readers who have waited for the not-so-long-but-not-so-usual update, here are some sweet teas for you. Enjoy chapter 12!

But, I think, I'm going to be ending this by chapter 20-23. I've planned to shorten it, I wanted to write my Dramione fanfiction. Ha-ha, well, enough of that. Here it goes!

**Disclaimer: **Harry Potter is not mine, but this plot is.

* * *

_**As the Rain Falls**_

_**Chapter 12:**_

It was five in the morning and all the trainees were already up and about in the kitchens - which was stationed in a small cottage, much like their quarters. Auror Harold Winston - a tall man that looks and moves like a Field Marshall - was the in-charge for the discipline coordination, spitting orders and distributing tasks to everybody; and there's no exception from the treatment. Even the Head Auror's son, Albus Potter, was scrubbing the floor without the use of magic.

Scorpius, meanwhile, was up in front of the sink, cleaning used pots after another. He thought the dishes were never going to end - they just kept coming and coming and coming, and he never seemed to finish. Until.

"Alright, you lot! In two minutes, I want the breakfast be served in the tent. Arrange twenty plates - two columns, ten rows. Sit in front of your room mate. Orders clear? Good." The disciplinary officer instructed, putting his toned hands behind him. Auror Winston glanced at Malfoy and Potter then nodded his head, "Follow me; both of you."

And so they did. They looked at each other and silently agreed that both of them should be ready with their wands, carefully assessing the Auror. He merely led them out to a path leading to another cabin, looking straight ahead emotionlessly. The thing about this Auror was that he was really good at looking like a damned strict mentor. The kind that never let anyone get out if not properly modelled - the kind that everyone was afraid of because he simply was that intimidating. Even having the possibility to get the late Severus Snape a run for his hair moisturizers. He was probably abused young.

"You lot should know who the real enemies are." Winston suddenly said in his authoritative voice, back still turned from the two. Scorpius shook his head and replied, "And who are the real enemies, exactly?"

Albus glared at him from speaking. His eyes told him to shut his mouth off, to let the big guy's smart arse talk - just so they couldn't exactly dig their own graves. "Oh, it's bound to be exposed soon. Don't fret, though. That's why you two are here, aren't you? Both of you wanted to know who the suspect is."

"Don't you _dare_." Albus mouthed, sneering. He knew Malfoy's bound to let the Auror have a piece of his mind. And he thought about how sassy he was going to be if he's going to be doing that. Like one of those funny black people in American movies, assumedly.

Scorpius rolled his eyes at Potter. Of course he wouldn't speak even though his thoughts were urging him to. He knew it was for the best that he kept quiet because the big oaf might've blurt out some information that could help them narrow down their investigation. And Winston did notice this so he continued, "And that's where we come in. Couldn't let you two go into your adventures alone. Hell, I've known what your bloody fathers did whenever their adrenalines get the best of them. The world out there was far more troublesome than what happened last December."

They now have reached the cabin's door. Winston knocked three times. The door opened immediately, revealing two men - blond and raven haired, much like Albus and him - arguing near a desk in the room. "Father?" Scorpius muttered.

The men stopped in their mid-sentences, looking at the now-opened door. "Auror Potter, Auror Malfoy." Winston nodded at them, "Your sons are here." He turned around to leave the place.

"Scorpius." Draco Malfoy greeted whilst watching Harry Potter walked over his son to ruffle his hair. Albus groaned right after. He smirked inwardly and turned to his visitor. "What are you doing here, father?" Scorpius crossed the room and sat on a sofa as his father positioned himself in a matching armchair. "To talk about business with you. Have you already decided?"

"About the heirloom? I told you, father, I'm not going to be handling _that_ -"

"Still haven't changed your mind, I see. Anyway, enough of that. I was never really that keen on letting you handle it now, either."

"And why do you think that?" He grunted, irritated. He hated how his father could barely believe his abilities. How annoying.

"I'm still very capable of doing so. You would, any way, if circumstances wouldn't allow." His father drawled. God, how that riled him up. "You didn't come here to talk about the family business, did you?" He immediately concluded.

Draco faked an amused laugh, "Aw, you figured it out. _Christ_, I'm proud of you, son." He was obviously in a foul mood and it seems that it was why Mister Potter and him were arguing. Whenever his father was in his sick persona, it was always either Scorpius was offended to an extent of finding his dignity or that Draco would find someone to vent his anger on. In this case, both were done. Must really be a bad morning for the older Malfoy.

And, as he was a great son, Scorpius chose not to pry. "Well, what happened to grandmother?"

"She's safe now. Already have woken up from her... state. Told me to tell you not to worry." Draco said, running a hand through his blond hair. "You must know not to be too reckless, son. I know what you're planning to do. I've been at your situation when things were far more... violent."

"What are you saying, father? That I'm going to go out there and just murder anyone who I got my hands on." Apparently, he was also in a not-_so_-ecstatic mood, given the events with a certain Weasley. "_News flash_, father, I'm not as stupid as you think."

They only glared at each other while Potter and his father were seated in the mini-dining table on the other corner of the room, teaching each other about how to use their moral compasses. Sometimes, Scorpius _did_ envy Albus _and_ his family. They were indeed big, but they're all so close together. He was ashamed to admit that even when they were only four in the family, they hardly get along and see each other - and now, for it to be narrowed down in three, the Manor felt more like _just_ a house than a home.

And regarding about how his father even came here with the urge to speak like this to him? For once, he wanted that if they were going to be seeing each other, they wouldn't have been _too_ sore to communicate. Sure, his father had the authority to. He knew that he was quite high up in the office, but this wasn't justifiable. To say that he was in Scorpius' _base_ was really faulty - but he was. And he wasn't even supposed to be here! This place was for Auror mentors and aspirants. _Only_. Not _full-pledged_ Aurors with an _agenda_ to vent their anger to their sons. It simply wasn't allowable. And the fact that even Weasley was inside their cabin and hiding because the mentors would kick her out of Tenerife if ever they found out that she's here. He wished for it all to be finished - for him to just go back in his room and succumb in his own sorrow.

"Have you got any more to say, father? It's been nice to see you this early, but I've got a training to attend to. If you will excuse me." Scorpius stood up, catching Albus' eyes. "I'll go ahead, Potter."

"See you in the tent."

He, then, looked at the older version of his companion and nodded. "Auror Potter, if you will."

Harry Potter let out a small smile and nodded, "Good day, young Malfoy."

He glanced at his father and nodded, "Father."

"Go ahead, son. Continue with your disappointments." His father waved his hand dismissively, not sparing him a look. He just kept his eyes on the plastered wall.

Inwardly groaning, Scorpius shook his head and walked over to the door. He turned the knob to open it and stepped out. But he knew for sure that he heard his father, in a quiet voice, saying _"Be careful."_

* * *

Instead of going to the dining room tent, he went to their cabin. He knew Rose Weasley was in there. A seemingly _always-present_ distraction whenever his father got on his nerves.

_"She's been crying when she got back a couple of hours ago. What did you do again, Malfoy?"_

He didn't know why he suddenly wanted to go inside. It was as if he felt bad about what he'd said, and its consequences. And about how he'd told her to stay away from him forever. He really didn't mean that, but it doesn't mean that he's ready to forgive her yet. Sure, he was still sore about her. She did not, after all, show any signs that she had disrespected the wake of his mother.

So he stood there, in front of the door, until the dawn broke, thinking about the pros and cons of going inside. Until finally, he walked over to the kitchens, scooped her a plate of mashed potatoes, and went back in front of the door of their cabin. He knocked, "Weasley? It's me, Malfoy. Will you open the door?"

The knob suddenly turned, but Rose Weasley was on the other side of the room, scrubbing the floors. Her sleeves were rolled down to her elbows and she bloody hell looked like those fairy tale princesses that they talk about in Muggle Studies. Scorpius arched a curious brow, moving inside to put the plate on the table. "I had... brought you something. Mashed potatoes. You still like it, right?"

She gave him a small smile and nodded. "Thank you, Malfoy." Then, she continued to scrub the floor.

"What are you even doing? We didn't require you to clean the cabin."

"Returning the favour. Thought to make it up to the two of you for letting me stay."

He walked over to her and kneeled down to grab a brush. "Well, would you mind I join in?" He said awkwardly, dipping the brush in the soapy bucket. "Are you sure?" She asked, "It is, after all, a very lowly task - to put in your perspective."

"Then why are you doing it then?" The blond started to scrub the other part of the floor, "If it's so lowly."

"It gives me peace." She had said, "Something to get me to the reality. Something that I know magic wouldn't be in much help because I can fairly do it myself."

He nodded. "Yes, well." He stopped and looked at her. "I heard from your cousin that you haven't slept... _very_ well. Is my bed too stiff?"

She looked back at him and shook her head, "No, it was very comfortable actually._ I _- my mind was just very... preoccupied about what had happened." Rose began to clean up again. "Well, I was just - a few hours ago, really, I was quite..." She chuckled nervously, tucking a loose curl behind her ear. "I was just, you know, thinking about you. About regretting why I haven't been there that time. And how sorry I was. Because you're right. I should have stayed behind the bar. And I thought if I've done that - that simple thing of following your instruction, what difference could it make today?"

"Well, your cousin and I wouldn't be this... casual." He'd said, to lighten the mood. She gave a light laugh, "Yes, I suppose that's one of the _okay_ part."

He gave her a small smile and looked away. "And probably by now, we'd be good friends."

"One of my most treasured, to think of it." She murmured. "But if you must remember, we've been _better_ friends when we're toddlers."

"I've seen pictures."

"Good to hear."

Another silence engulfed them - much bearable than from the previous ones. It was nice and more comfortable. Scorpius had thought this wouldn't ever happen, given with the incident, but it did. And for once, he let himself feel as if he wasn't angry at her anymore. _That_ Rose Weasley was just afraid of everything. That she was afraid that she'd be blamed for the accident regarding his mother.

To say that he missed her was more likely to describe it. He fancied talking to her - fancied it too much to almost break his three-month streak of ignoring her last night and just talk to her senseless. About the incident, the past, the _everything_. Because Rose Weasley was his Earl Grey; his calm before the storm; his walk in the park; his snow; his rain.

She was much like the things he felt at ease with. And it explains how much harder it was for him to just forgive and move on. It wasn't easy. He'd want her to suffer, to wallow in guilt and misery, as he did. He wanted her to feel the sinking feeling of falling - falling with waiting and wanting to hit the ground, but was unable to. Falling and never stopping. Just the endless pit of hell. Being there _with_ him. _In inferno._

But he couldn't do that - _no_. If she were in hell with him, he'd have brought her iced water just so she'd feel hydrated from the heat.

"I've always liked your friendship, Malfoy." Rose breathed, standing up to go to the loo. She grinned at him sheepishly. "Far back from when we're kids. I've always wanted to be your best friend. Albus was so deranged by the idea, he started to hang out with us."

"Glad to know I've annoyed Albus since then." He said, not really remembering. Then he thought about how much difference it would really make if the whole thing had been just a devious dream. He thought about how the what if was if she'd been together with him the first night they got back from the holidays to watch the snow, and how they're going to be right now. Would it sprout to something more than just friends?

Rose left the room to change the bucket of now-dirty soap water. He walked over to make his bed, but a bloody fast bat that came out from nowhere, immediately flying over his blond head, screeching loudly. However, with the attained skill, he ducked. "What the -" He turned to face the bat that he assumed to have hit the wall, but there wasn't any.

"Weasley! Did you let a _bloody_ bat in?" He said, cursing thereafter. She popped her head from the open door of the loo and eyed him thoughtfully. "I actually haven't opened the door since Albus left this morning – and you going inside, why?"

"Didn't you hear the bat? It was screeching so loud!"

"I didn't." She said, looking around the small cabin. "Malfoy, are you sure a bat, _in_ _the_ _morning_ - with the sun _brightly_ up - would have been out and in here? In _Tenerife_?"

"_Yes_! Haven't I told you that I'd just seen it?" He was getting frustrated at her again. It was hard to explain things when a person wasn't in there to see it with you. And probably, she was all about seeing and believing.

Weasley walked over to him and checked his temperature. Her eyes narrowed with much worry. "Malfoy? I don't think it could get in here, though. There's _no_ window."

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**REVIEW! And I might add a kiss next chapter ;)**


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: **Hi, no kiss will happen :p The reviews weren't enough. Okay, sorry for the lateness of it all. I'm starting to doubt this story.

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing but the plot.

* * *

_**As the Rain Falls**_

_**Chapter 13:**_

There was no window.

The cabin Scorpius was staying at only have two doors - the entrance door and the other one that was separating the loo from the quarters. It couldn't be possible that a bat would've gotten in if both doors were shut. Also wasn't quite possible that they were out and about in day light.

But what he saw was what he saw. Scorpius _knew_ better. He even thought that Rose must've been messing with him.

So he left her in the cabin and proceeded to the training, partly because his bracelet's beads were lighting up again and partly because he wanted to be preoccupied about something else. He was so sure about what he saw so he'd have to consult with Auror de Ybarra later.

He was tasked to go to a large clearing, just in the deeper opening of a small rainforest. It was still quite moist from the rain that have poured a few hours ago, but the aesthetics of the place seemed to have been better. He slightly jumped as a frog leaped on his shoes and shook it off roughly thereafter. Wild flowers surrounded his body as he trudged along a few bushes that somehow managed to sprout fire and burned a small part of the fabric of his shirt.

When the bracelet stopped going mardy, he knew he'd have found them. He parted the tall grass and saw the nineteen of the participants, quietly standing and lifting boulders of rocks. There was a stack of wands at the foot of their mentor. He looked at Albus but he paid him no mind because of his sheer concentration. The instructor was lifting his own boulders with eyes closed, but his hands were tucked in his back, wand placed along with the stack.

"Mister Malfoy, glad to finally been graced with your presence." The instructor have said, very much like the portrait of Severus Snape in their library. "I'm Auror Dragomir Lionheart, your mentor for Amateur Wandless Magic."

* * *

Scorpius' so-called _'happening'_ have been occurring far too often. There was one time when he was seen by Albus talking in the loo with no one to speak to. He had then explained that a bat have been coming back and forth in their quarters, and have chosen their loo as a hiding place. And the thing was, when Albus checked as Scorpius pointed out the hiding place, there was nothing but a cluster of dirty floor brushes.

This had Potter questioning Malfoy's sanity. He, however, continued to observe as a couple of weeks went by. So far, in the past three days, they've been too busy with their training, Malfoy had kept forgetting to check on the loo. It's their last week on the training so things were far more advanced than the first weeks.

Even with Scorpius' _'happenings'_, he'd been able to perform well in Stealth and Tracking 101 - which earned him a good point from Auror Weasley, their mentor in that program. However, he did poorly on Concealment and Disguise as with Amateur Wandless Magic because he was distracted so easily, making him an immediate failure in their practicals. In Potions and Spell-Making - an innate gift to Malfoys - he was the top student.

If progress was the subject, he'd really be one of the most noticeable. In the start of the training, he was always so weak, so unfocused and rugged. He was not fit, actually. But now, _well_, he was so good at what he was doing that he needed to do, his mentors have been sending his father owls of congratulations because _'he might qualify'._ He was quite glad about it.

To conclude, he was doing so well on his Aurorship, but not so with his life.

"Potter," Scorpius had muttered on Wednesday, four days before they'd go back to Hogwarts. They've been cleaning the beach now, on a 'detention' for being late in the daily kitchen course works. "I - am I crazy?"

"To tell you the truth," Albus nodded, "yes. Very much."

"Is it because I see the bat?"

"Yes, and some other stuffs, as well. Like, you know, being an idiot to me for about all our lives. Duh, I thought that was common knowledge." He grumbled, using his stick to pluck up another can of beer. "God, this _is _so stupid! I hate disciplinary measures!" To Albus' case, though, he's been doing fairly well - almost as good as Scorpius was.

The blond glared at him, "The fuck, Potter? I'm seeking some real talk from you."

Potter chuckled, "Well, alright. I do think that you were crazy because of the bat and some idiocies in the past, but you're an _okay_ lad. You should get yourself checked, still. We don't want you slicing my head off in my sleep."

"Thanks for the advice, mate." He grunted, rolling his eyes. "I'll wake you up, though. So you'll feel the pain when I did chop your head off."

But he was also unsure about how he was doing, too. Scorpius knew that Albus and Rose (who was now provided with her own quarters) had been right. They were sure they didn't see anything even though he found it hard to believe. He was, after all, _the one_ seeing things. He's just worried that something was happening with his brain.

"Hey, Malfoy." Albus suddenly spoke, scratching the back of his head. "Don't tell the Aurors but I asked Rose to buy some... _beverage_ to celebrate my, you know, birthday. We're drinking tonight. And you have to join us. It's rude not to invite you since you're staying in the cabin as well. Anyway, just drinks. Me, Rose, and you."

"Sure, mate. Why not?"

And after the three-hour disciplinary measure they've served, they immediately proceeded to the kitchens to get some food because they had excused themselves from dinner, saying that they "just wanted to go to bed."

So they got some grapes, chips, and other snacks and brought it to their cabin - but not until they've shown their sacks of rubbish to Auror Winston with that proud gleam in their eyes.

"Oh, good - Rose's here." Albus said, dropping the food in his made-up table. Rose popped her head out from the loo, waving at the lads. "Hey! Just give me a minute."

Scorpius sat on his bed and drummed his fingers on his lap. After their conversation from two weeks ago, he'd been distant with Rose - but not showing her with much disdain. In fact, he smiled at her when they sometimes crossed paths and once, on a Sunday, he'd come with her and Albus to a nearby bookstore. Just like he used to, when things between them were more of childhood familiarities than _somehow-close_ friends.

"What are you doing, even?" He called out to the loo. "I'm starving!"

Rose got out of the loo and took the bucket of beer, gathered together with ice to keep it cold. She picked one from the lot, examining it and opening the lid using a fork. She passed it to Albus, "Birthday boy first.", and popped another one open for Scorpius.

"Thanks." He softly grumbled. "But aren't you going to drink?"

"Yes - _and no._ I'm very easily intoxicated." She held up a bottle of a less-stronger beer.

They sat around for a moment in utter silence. After quite a while, Scorpius raised his bottle - as if proposing a toast. "To Albus, my _best-worst_ enemy ever. Happy birthday. To years more of annoying the shit out of us - no, just me, _apparently_."

Albus rolled his eyes but nevertheless grinned. His cousin chuckled and raised hers, "To my cousin, who would have defied Einstein's Theory of Relativity for my sake. Cheers." They all _clink-ed_ their bottles and took a massive large gulp.

After a while - or about sixteen bottles of beer later, not including Rose's, which were three - they were all laughing loudly and clutching their bellies. "Remember when Scorpius bloody fell on his broom last match? God, that was funny - no, _wait_. Hilarious!"

"No, mate. You're the one who fell off your broom! Shit, you were so mad, you didn't catch the snitch!" Scorpius countered, shaking his head and taking more gulps. He managed to drown one in a minute, getting another one from the bucket.

Rose offered to open the lid, because frankly, both of them cannot. They didn't really take Muggle Studies that seriously. "Here you go."

"Thanks."

The birthday boy sighed at the sight of them, smiling haughtily. "You know, you two would've made a great pair. I will actually be your supporter against Uncle Ron if Malfoy here hadn't been such a great daft."

"Excuse me, Potter - let's put on a note that you were the daft one here -"

"For once, Malfoy, will you _shut_ your blabbering mouth? I'm trying to talk here, if you don't mind."

Malfoy grumbled something along the lines of "_I do mind_" and drank his bottle. He knew the lad was really in the verge of passing out. Albus continued, "As I was saying - _before_ Malfoy very rudely interrupted my speech," he glared at him. "I think - and in my honest opinion - that you two would have been great together."

"_However_..." Rose trailed off, chuckling.

"Yes, _however_! However, this lad right here doesn't deserve you - he forgot all about you, you silly little girl."

_Forgot? About what?_ "I didn't know that I forgot about something."

"You did! God, didn't you mention to me you only remembered until before you were, like, seven -"

"Albus, please stop. You're pissed."

"No, Rose - let _me_ tell the tale. Okay, okay, ready? _Once upon a time -_"

"Cousin, will you sod off?"

"- there was a very pretty young lady who was good mates with a blond lad -"

"_Albus_!" Rose firmly said, glaring at the celebrant. "You are not excused to do tell him such blasphemous things." She looked at Scorpius and mouthed an apology. Scorpius shrugged and finished his current bottle.

To be honest, he was quite enjoying and was interested in Albus' story. Who knew? It might fill out those spots of memories beyond his age of seven. Maybe, those pictures he always see inside his velvet box that his mother had kept would make sense. He'd have to force it out on Albus when Rose went back to her quarters later.

"But, cousin, didn't he deserve to at least know?"

"_About what?_"

"About the accident, fool!"

"Albus, stop it."

"What accident?" Scorpius suddenly asked, stopping the two with their banters. Both of them looked at him, but Rose's eyes were as wide as saucers and Albus' have the almost asleep look in his.

He didn't remember an accident, that was for sure. But, his mother had said that he had been to St. Mungo's before from falling off a broom, when he was young. It occurred to him that he must've hit his head hard that's why he couldn't remember anything from seven and below.

Nevertheless, an accident? _What_? He didn't know that! He fell off a broom, but apparently, it was far more than that. _Apparently_, an accident worse than falling off a broom was in place. And it had happened. To _him_. Which made him forgot all of his memories beyond that age.

"You fell off a broom, remember?" Rose immediately covered up. He knew she was lying.

He only nodded.

* * *

"_Na na na na na na na na! Na na na na! Hey Jude!_" Albus and Rose sung at the top of their lungs, arms wrapped around each other. They held their heads back and laughed. Scorpius, meanwhile, was rolling his eyes and chuckling. For some reasons, the alcohol have finally had an effect on him - though, not as massive as the effect on the other two.

"You both ought to close your mouths now. I have to get this room cleaned up." Scorpius announced, hauling Albus up on his bed. "You too, Weasley. You have to go now."

Rose held out her hands and he helped her up. "There we go." She murmured, stumbling down the floor when she tried to stand up. He steadied her, "Oh, careful."

"Well, thank you, Mister Malfoy!" She said in a sixteenth century-English accent. "You are a one, fine sir! You shall be rewarded!"

"Oh, Lady Weasley, you shall keep silent." He spoke, chuckling. "Your cousin have succumb in his slumber."

"Nonsense, Mister Malfoy! I shall speak in times of my need!"

"Why, you're in the twenty-first century, M'lady."

She gasped. He laughed. _Rose was so funny when she's pissed_, he thought. "Come, now. We shall get going. Can't have Mister Potter waking up. He's shit as pissed."

Rose rolled her eyes, "Okay, fine. But you have to race me out!" She immediately ran to the door, tripping over herself. Scorpius caught her again and helped her out, "You know, we shouldn't be running inside this shabby cabin. I've long found it... small."

They walked out the door, but she had already forgot about racing. Her eyes were closed, though awake, and her arms were wrapped over her body. It was a very windy night, and as he watched her from a good foot away, he'd thought about how she had managed to make him feel like that. Just, with the case of seeing her, she'd give him chills in the pit of his stomach. Like butterflies, but those were for girls. Maybe wasps. It _must_ be wasps.

"Weasley, we've been walking in the beach for a long time. Where's your cabin?" He asked her. She finally opened her eyes and smiled. "Why don't we take a little while here?" She said, "How about we stay just for five more minutes? The night is kind of nice."

Rose sat on the sand and laid down. She looked up at the stars and sighed. "You know, you shouldn't be shy around me. Come on," she patted the empty space beside her, "lie down and look up here. It's so breath taking." Scorpius did as she said and lied down, but he wasn't looking at the stars. He was looking at her.

"You're right; it's breath taking." He murmured.

She stared back at him, nodding. "Isn't it? You know, there was an old story - very _religious_, probably you won't appreciate the whole thing. Though, I think you might know him. He's a really famous figure, as per the bible. You know, the Son of the Morning." Her blue eyes drifted back to the velvet darkness of the horizon. "There was once an angel who was given a star. He was an angel God had appointed himself – a perfect angel, y'know. Very beautiful and his appearance was so favoured by God. He had everything – wisdom, power, beauty – but, as all the people, he wanted more." She pointed up, "Maybe, that was him before."

"Before?" He asked.

"Before, _yes_. It was said that as the time passes by, he was so proud about his star that vanity cost him the whole thing. He wanted to be like the 'Most High', be worshipped like God himself. It's crazy, I know. That's why, the man, as with being so vain, was punished by God through a bolt of lightning and was confiscated of his star - and thus, the term 'fallen angel'. If you must know, he's Lucifer – or Satan, for that matter." "

He smiled at her and finally gazed up. "It's a nice story, Weasley."

"I know; and you know what? You're kind of like the fallen angel."

"In what way?"

"In a lot of ways. For one, you made choices that made God take away your star. But you see, that's the thing." Rose rolled on her belly and smiled at him, raising herself up by the support of her elbows. "God had sent the fallen angel back to the Earth to redeem himself. He _must've have_, I hope. You would've have, and I'm sure of it. You still have a chance. My mother said that your father was one, and he turned his life around."

"You think I'm bad?"

"Nope, I just think that you're incomplete. You're not bad, but you are too preoccupied with getting the things that you've wanted, you forget the important ones that wasn't need getting."

Scorpius wanted to laugh, but he didn't. Instead, he grinned back at her and lifted himself up using his arms so that they were levelled by eye-to-eye, "So, it would really be selfish if I'd do it, because since you kind of said that the best things in life are free."

"What would you do?" Said Rose, eyebrow raised but the smile on her face was still intact. His face neared hers very slowly. She didn't dare move away but her eyes were a little wider than usual. They were an inch away now and they felt their breaths tickled their faces. He slightly licked his lips and spoke in a very low voice.

"The five minute's up."

But Rose Weasley, being mischievous in times like these, rolled her eyes and closed the inch's gap between their lips. And as for Scorpius Malfoy, albeit little surprised with the influence of alcohol and all, gained his composure after a few moments and kissed her back.

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**HAHA KIDDING! But seriously, though. DO REVIEW!**


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: **So, no update for a couple of weeks. Finals week is coming up :O by the way, I also managed to get a job, so I'm pretty busy :(

But worry not - this will be soon finished :) About seven more chapters or less. I don't know. We'll see! **PLEASE REVIEW!**

**Disclaimer: **You and I know that I'm innocent.

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_**As the Rain Falls**_

_**Chapter 14:**_

That night, they had slept under the stars.

They didn't go beyond snogging each other - hell, they didn't do anything after that gentle, innocent, alcohol-driven kiss. After what had happened, they lapsed into a comfortable conversation about the future. Their skins didn't touch; simply after, they smiled at each other and laid back down.

Scorpius Malfoy had kissed a lot of girls he'd fancied before. Hell, he'd even did things he's sure she didn't do in her free time. But when his lips touched hers, it was a different story all along. It was like the whole world held its breath for that moment. That one moment. Like it was ever meant to happen.

And now, sitting in the sandy banks of the beach where they laid on the breaking of the dawn last Thursday morning, he tossed a pebble to the sea and watched as it jumped a couple of times. He hadn't slept since that day. It was nagging him since. He kept asking questions as to why she did that. He was confused, and he avoided her whenever he had the chance.

It was a sunny Sunday morning in Tenerife. They were just waiting for their portkeys and last minute instruction from their mentors. Tomorrow, everything would be back to normal. Quidditch would be their focus once again. The _NEWTs_ were also be their top priorities - especially him, as an aspiring Auror. He'd go back to avoiding the kitchens and Rose Weasley altogether. The cycle would continue.

He'd have to forget the kiss and all the things that had happened here except from the training. His robotic self would be, once again, in place.

Scorpius didn't know if he liked that at all.

Of course, it was really irrational. He knew he's too messed up to begin a relationship. Even though he longed fancied Rose Weasley, it wasn't worth it. He didn't want her to be miserable as he was.

And they were on the verge of getting to their dreams! What's a mere young love in replace to that?

He was so foolish - foolish that he thought he'd forget all about what had happened when he woke up. He was such an idiot to kiss her back. And to want it too. It felt like taking advantage of her in her pissed state.

"Fucking idiot you are, Scorpius." He muttered, sending another pebble away.

"Never thought I'd see the day Scorpius Malfoy admit that he was an idiot." Albus Potter said, sitting beside him with a smoke between his lips. He knew that the lad had picked up smoking since the start of the internship - knew about it back when he'd caught him the second night they're in. Rose didn't know about this, though. Neither does his other cousins. It was only him who knew - and they weren't even blood related.

"Well, _yeah."_ Scorpius grunted, rolling his eyes. In truth, he never really understood Potter and his habit of smoking. He guessed he never really find anything amusing about it. For all he knew, it was just a way to kill himself faster.

Potter glanced at him and offered him a cigar from his box. "You want some?"

Scorpius chuckled. He thought about how _bad boy-ish_ Albus looked, offering him a stick and all. He knew that he was a lot more onto the top of the bad boy scale than the lad but when he was smoking, hell - he'd look as if he was his big brother. "Why do you smoke? What's so good about it?"

"It calms me." Potter spoke, "You ought to see for yourself. It can clear your mind."

"What it will do is kill you."

"Oh, Malfoy - please." He laughed, "We both knew how badly of a slave you are to alcohol. Don't be such an angel."

And it was true. If ever there was a hot naked woman and a bottle of alcohol in front of Scorpius and he was only allowed to choose one, he'd pick the alcohol without thinking twice. It was that much of a deal to him. Alcohol was his best mate.

"I'm not. But alcohol, you get to drink it and the only way it gets out of your system is by peeing or _whatelse._ But smoking?" He shook his head. "You take it in and take it out almost immediately. That's just tiring and dumb. You paid for the stuff and you didn't even have much from it."

"Malfoy, to be honest - sometimes, I do think that you're just a selfish idiot who wants to get most of your things. You are so possessive."

Before Scorpius could utter a reply, though, his bracelet vibrated and lit up. So was Albus'. They stood up and nodded, "It's time to go."

"Yeah, I'm going to miss Tenerife. I could live here forever."

"Potter, just so you know, you're a really great partner." Malfoy said, holding a fist to the raven-haired lad. Albus bumped his fist onto him and grinned. "You are too, Malfoy. Now, let's go."

They walked in silence. It was the judgment day after all. Their fates would be spoken by Auror de Ybarra just a few moments later. Only five out of the twenty would be taken to the three-year training. And then, that's where it starts.

Of course, even then if he'd have been chosen today, he wasn't sure if he's going to be proceeding to the training. There were required _NEWTs_ and he didn't have time to study through his stay here. But fortunately, he was Scorpius Malfoy - and boy, he who would be sure to catch up quickly as another one of his motto was: study hard and party harder.

The bracelet led them into a clearing. It was the clearing that Auror Lionheart held his first meeting with them. The whole lot was again in formation - their bodies still and faces expressionless. Albus and Scorpius joined them.

Their mentors, along with Auror Weasley in the middle, looked at them with strict discipline. "Alright, you lot. Listen here," Auror Weasley began, "We have deliberated. It seemed to be that the mentors have all decided to add a wild card. Now, there will be six of you who would have a chance to go to the next training.

"Those who have shown great vigilance and improvement are much appreciated - and thus, should be deserving of the slot. We do solemnly hope that you are not to waste it." He stepped back and looked at Auror de Ybarra. "If you please, Auror de Ybarra."

"_Muchas gracias_, Auror Weasley." They nodded at each other. "I will be calling the names of those who have been chosen - not in order, though. For those who were not called, please talk to Auror Lionheart for your possible careers as Hit Wizards." He glanced around, only stopping when his eyes landed on Scorpius Malfoy.

"Let's start. Please step forward if you're called." He fished a paper from his pocket.

The tension in the clearing could not have been any more disguised. The brims of their foreheads were releasing droplets of sweat even though it's a pretty cloudy morning. One of the lads who had even topped one of the aptitude test literally peed his trousers - but the lot didn't even crack a smile. They understood. Frankly, they're close to do the same thing.

"Again, this is not in order of who's had a higher grade. The scoring will be anew in the training anyway." Auror de Ybarra spoke, "So, first off is Willow, Gilbert James A."

The lad who peed his trouser jumped and screamed a _"yes"._ Auror Winston shook his head and muttered a "This is our new trainee?" He smiled, nonetheless. "You may change your trousers now, Mister Willow." Auror Lionheart said, rolling his eyes as the lad stood beside him.

"Good point, Auror Lionheart." de Ybarra chuckled. "Now, next off is Overland, Justine K." The Overland boy sighed in relief and stepped forward and stood beside Lionheart, as Willow had.

"Frost, Gabriel Harvey L." Frost stepped forward, expressionless. "Potter, Albus Severus E."

Albus threw his fist in the air and shouted, "About fucking time!" Scorpius laughed, shaking his head. His heart had calmed down. Surely, his name would be called next. His points were better than Potter.

"Two more. This is the last for the five qualified. The last name will be the wild card. This wild card was chosen because it was believed that he had a potential - or maybe, his lack of focus was the thing at fault. We had to reconsider." The Auror smirked, "The last one - but definitely not the least." He glanced at the paper in his hand, "A lass, I see."

This earned a groan from the fourteen other lads. There were only two women in the training.

Scorpius eyes widened. It surely wasn't him, now. This means that he didn't pass. It couldn't be true, though. He knew he'd done better than that Willow lad or that Frost. He's even a whole lot better than Albus and obviously, the ladies, but why wasn't he called?

"von William, Alessandra." The girl's eyes widened, mouthing a "_bloody hell_".

Again, the clearing held its breath.

"And for the final name," Auror de Ybarra locked eyes with Malfoy for the second time of the day. Scorpius didn't flinch - he knew it was the one thing that de Ybarra would expect him to do. "Malfoy, Scorpius Hyperion G."

It was like the pain of the world was lifted from Scorpius' back. Nevertheless, he felt that this would be the start of something bad.

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"I heard you passed the first training." A voice whispered beside Malfoy. He looked around, but no one was there. However, he knew immediately who it was. A smile automatically appeared on his face before he could help it.

"Weasley, get out of that cloak and show yourself."

Rose Weasley chuckled, shaking off the hood of the invisibility cloak. "Hey, Malfoy."

They were currently standing in front of the starry night view of Hogwarts, in the Astronomy Tower, having just came back a few hours ago via a portkey to Platform Nine and Three Quarters. The seventh years happened to be exhausted from their last day of their internships and therefore retired to bed early. Although, there were some like Isaac, who trained for the Prophet, that was let in a couple of days earlier. To Scorpius' delight, his cousin got the slot from his internship. They celebrated with a few butterbeers from one of the house elves in the kitchens.

"Hey," The blond whispered, "I thought you might be sleeping."

"Nah, it's such a beautiful night. I wouldn't miss this for the world."

_Neither would I. _

They stayed silent for a while, just taking in the view. Never did Scorpius feel that they were embarrassed with each other because they kissed. It felt normal - like the moment that their lips met was the most normal thing in the world. It was as if they didn't mind it, that if ever it was to happen again, it would be alright and nothing would have changed.

"A knut for your thoughts?" Rose murmured, eyes still fixated on the night sky.

"A knut for yours?" He fetched a knut from his pocket and handed it to her.

She grinned and accepted the knut, "Very clever, Malfoy."

"It wouldn't hurt to try." He grinned back.

"Well," she started, "for starters, I was thinking about my uncertainty as a columnist for the Prophet. Actually, I'm sure I would have gotten the slot there. I'm Hermione Granger's daughter. They thought I was as smart as my mum.

"So, on the first day there, they treated me very differently from the others."

"Do they serve you steak and the others just mere chicken drumsticks?"

"Heavens, _no!_ Thank God that didn't happen." They laughed. "Different, as in their attention was more likely on me. They didn't even send a glance to Grizelda Thomas, and Merlin knows she's the best writer in our year."

"Who is Grizelda Thomas again?"

"The girl from Ravenclaw? You don't know her?"

"Unfortunately not."

"She had a crush on you since first year!"

"Really? I never would have noticed."

"Git."

They broke into another fit of laughter.

"But seriously, though." Weasley said, "If I haven't told you, you really wouldn't know?"

Scorpius nodded, "I really wouldn't. I didn't even know what her hair colour is."

"You might just be the weirdest lad I've ever had the chance of meeting."

"I'm lucky, then?"

"Yes, you are."

"Do you like me?"

"Who _wouldn't_ – _wait,_ what?" Rose looked at him, her face going into a bright shade of pink. He only smirked and patted her head. "So, you like me?"

"Doesn't everybody?" She managed to cover, but he knew better.

Maybe Sigmund Freud was right – that _parapraxis,_ or the slip of the tongue, was true and that it was what the unconscious wished to speak.

He thought about this as she smiled at him sheepishly and sighed, taking in the vast view once more.

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**PLEASE REVIEW!**

By the way, let me explain how the bracelets work.

_It was like it lights up, and then it vibrates if you're going the wrong way. If you're getting closer to the place, you'd have some sort of bright light from the carvings. The bracelet would then stop if you've reached the place :)_

I particularly didn't like how this chapter ended, but there should be something to fill in. To know that in a way, this isn't a one-sided relationship at all.


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